Splinters of a Song
by Alec Shields
Summary: Ryuuichi POV. A series of snipets covering the rebirth of Nittle Grasper and the lost love of it's lead singer. Yaoi. Ryuichi x Tohma. DISCONTINUED - Please see author's profile for more info!
1. sound test

  
  
**=Splinters of a Song =**   
  
**Disclaimer:** Gravitation isn't owned by me, never have been never will be no matter how much I beg and plead. Legal action would result in gaining a pair of disgruntle cats and a college loan that refuses to end. I promise to put the characters right where they belong once I am done.   
**Rating:** R for possible violence, language and general rock star-ish behavior  
  
**Author Notes:** I tend to see Ryuuichi's switch from child-like innocence to wise adult a bit different than others. It's not exactly like having a split personality in mind, but more like he uses the child-like persona as a way to make others happy and to keep out of the day-to-day petty prejudice. I would almost say it reminds me of Peter Pan and the Lost Boys, not having to grow up because they didn't want to face the terror adult life gave them. So, anyways that is sort of my thoughts on the subject, which is why this Ryuuichi is a bit grown up talking and acting behind a child's smile.  
  
This is my first Gravitation fiction. Hopefully the characters are not too OOC but having only seen the anime and the manga as found on fansites my knowledge is limited   
  
First song in the fiction is _'Ordinary World'_ by Duran Duran. Ryuuichi's POV.   
* blah * =Thoughts   
_blah_ = Lyrics   
  
**~*~*~*~*~*~**   
  
**= Sound Test =**  
  
_Came in from a rainy Thursday on the avenue,   
Thought I heard you talking softly.   
I turned on the lights, the TV and the radio   
Still I can't escape the ghost of you._   
  
Three years. That's how long it's been since I've heard the music. Don't get me wrong; America is another place with its own rhythm and its way of doing things. I've heard their music and in a small part contributed to it with my attempts of breaking into their way of the business. But America is not a place for experimentation. They aren't good with change and they prefer that everyone sound like what's selling not like themselves. Even with K there, I still had to fight for my own sound, and my style. Not like back home, where we commanded the music industry.   
  
_What is happening to it all?   
Crazy some say-   
Where is the life that I recognize?   
Gone away._   
  
Talking over the phone wasn't going to replace what I was missing. I could tell them everything and even play them my solo efforts, but I cannot see their faces. How silly does that sound? I'm the person that they often trained the spotlights on, the front man of the band, the 'genius singer and lyric writer Sakuma Ryuuichi'. Up where I stood I could not see anything but the blinding lights on me, could hear nothing but the pounding beat and feel the unseen eyes of millions of faithful worshipers. So alone, so empty up there, no wonder I like retreating back into the child-mask when the spotlights are gone.   
  
_But I won't cry for yesterday.   
There's an ordinary world somehow I have to find.   
And as I try to make my way to the ordinary world   
I will learn to survive._   
  
America was an eye-opener in so many ways. I've never expected to be so different that most refuse to hear me sing. It took a lot of effort to get where I was with the rest of Nittle Grasper that I've forgotten those days. Struggling to get someone to hear us, struggling at lousy part-time jobs to feed myself and have enough left over for something that wasn't mended five times over. Touma had money, Noriko had her then fiancé for support, but I was a poor starving student that hadn't talked to my family since they kicked me out. See? My past isn't some dark deep sob story just the story of a lot of people in a lot of places. I turned sixteen and my folks kicked me out end of story.   
  
_Passion or coincidence once prompted me to say-   
Pride will tear us both apart.   
Well now pride's gone out the window, cross the rooftops, runaway.   
Left me in the vacuum of my heart._   
  
Away from the shadow of Nittle Grasper I managed to find myself a little or at least I like to think so. Not so much as a 'self' of musical understanding, but a 'self' of personal growth and understanding. The bits and pieces that make up my mind had to be dragged back to me, like fish on a line or a string of pearls being placed on a new string. What a fun prospect that turned out to be. I think I spent a better part of my first year here doing just that. Pride in myself was regained and so were my own interests again. I started returning to some of what I was before I became the 'genius vocalist' of Nittle Grasper.   
  
_What is happening to me?   
Crazy some say.   
Where is my friend when I need you most?   
Gone away._   
  
I suppose it's humbling to not be able to produce a string of big hits just by one's name. After all, in America, all I ever was another skinny kid with a bunch of ideas and a good strong manager. Just like hundreds of others out there trying to make it big. I had one up on them since I did have hits in another country and knew what to say to the people in charge. But still, even with that and the Glock that K liked to wave around, it took a while to get anything done.   
  
_But I won't cry for yesterday.   
There's an ordinary world somehow I have to find.   
And as I try to make my way to the ordinary world   
I will learn to survive._   
  
From superstardom to a cult hit to college and people on the fringe was a change for the best. The only people to know who I was where those that were either obsessed with J-rock as they called it or those that were outsiders themselves. My pride stung at such a rejection, but my wings opened and soared at the heady sense of freedom. Freedom from the lights, freedom from the pressures within, freedom from the self-doubts and worries. So what I had to work to regain what I was I was free.   
  
_Papers in the roadside tell of suffering and greed,   
Feared today; forgot tomorrow.   
Here beside the news of holy war and holy need,   
Ours is just a little sorrowed talk-   
Blown away._   
  
Just me and the music and the exhilaration of being in a whole new world far from what I knew.   
  
_Just blowing away._   
  
But that feeling of excitement grew dark. What I searched for in the end was not my voice, nor was it my self, but a chance to get back to the root of everything. To remember why I had to leave, why I agreed to K's offer. To remember whom I was before I became the genius they proclaim me to be. And once I remembered that, I was ready to go home again.   
  
_But I won't cry for yesterday.   
There's an ordinary world somehow I have to find.   
And as I try to make my way to the ordinary world   
I will learn to survive._   
  
I am coming home, where the song shall renew my spirits and clean my soul. Where I can see them again and cheer them up and be the one that they look at when they are too cranky or too sore from the harshness of the world. Returning to Touma who is our brains and the one that always made sure that the plans were set. To Noriko who is always watching out for us and nurturing us during those times when we needed a mother's touch. To myself, the heart of the music, the very piece that kept everything together and shiny. The inspiration that was all of us together in a harmony that could not be duplicated in anyway by anyone on earth. Time to go home. Time to return to what I was.   
  
_Any world is my world   
Every world is my world_   
  



	2. track one

  
**= Splinters of a Song =**   
  
_Warnings and disclaimers same as in the Prologue. Nothing has changed much from that one to this one. Ryuuichi POV again. Mention of Ryuuichi x Touma in this part._   
  
**~*~*~*~*~*~**  
  
**= Track One =**   
  
No matter how high up, there was always a little bit of noise. The sounds of wind and the faint sounds of traffic, the slamming of doors and the murmurs of voices, the tapping of a loose screen and the coos of pigeons as they settled down for the night. No matter how high up my apartment was and how much soundproofing between the outside and me, I could still hear the beat of the city.   
  
That beat would lure me into the silence of the mind, deep past the mask others saw most times and into the core that made me a musician. It would let me explore the language, choosing the exact word and turn of a phrase and string them together like pearls on a thread until I had a song. Sometimes my lyrics gave me a chill in the spine as if I was touching something profane, other times the songs strike a chord that was not deep but still made some sense, then there were times that the songs completely sucked and those I would file aside into a scrapbook. Why I kept a scrapbook on my worse lyrical doodles not even I was sure of, but I'd filled three of those big books of little rambling lines that lead nowhere, and was working on a fourth.   
  
But tonight, the beat of the city brought me no inspiration at all.   
  
"Mooooou!" I exclaimed, flopping back into the futon, nibbling on my pen's tip. "I can't think tonight, Kumagorou!"   
  
I gave a big worried glance at the pink rabbit sitting on my coffee table over seeing my notebook and the squiggly doodles that was my way of trying to come up with something anything that sounded nice and rhymed. Three more songs were needed for the next album, three more pieces about love and life and hardship and pain, but I couldn't think of anything but K aiming that Glock of his at me after I told him I didn't have the songs yet. I could write a song about that, but I doubt that K would be amused that he was the topic of any song of mine.   
  
"Kumagorou, I can't think up of anything right now!" Throwing my head back, I stretched out more on the low piece of furniture, studying the ceiling, whining to my stuffed rabbit out loud. "I just can't! There's nothing to write about! K is gonna shoot me dead!"   
  
No wonder people thought I was crazy I talked to a rabbit like it was alive. But I was always like that, talking to myself out loud or singing. That I turned my first toy into a sounding board was strange but people have grown use to it, even when I bring the pink rabbit with me everywhere I went. But I always believed even when I was young that everything possess a bit of a soul, from people to animals, to plants to rocks. All they needed was someone to bring that soul out, like what I did with Kumagorou. A little care, a little kindness and has a buddy for life. Like in the Velveteen Rabbit.   
  
Frowning at the plain boring white of the ceiling and wonder why that wasn't painted like the night sky like I had asked, I heard the soft whispering that some people would call their inner child and I just called Kumagorou in my mind.   
  
"Get out of the apartment? Don't think about the songs right now?" Scrunching my nose, I sat up and glanced confusedly at the stuffed animal. "But K said... But I have to.. You mean that I am suffering from lack of mingling? That I need to have some sort of contact with others to remind myself about what I am writing for? Sugoi! I like that idea, but I can't... All right! I'll do it!"   
  
Satisfied with my answer, the rabbit became quiet again, silently eyeing my work of the evening with reproachful button eyes. Tossing the pen onto the table, I picked up the pink rabbit and bounced towards my bedroom. Like most stars, I could have lived in a huge mansion with lots of rooms and fancy furniture but I prefer to keep things simple. The place I called home was a good-sized apartment with four main rooms. The living room/kitchen was where the door opened up to, the bathroom to the side of the bedroom, a smaller room that I had turned into a music room and library and then my bedroom. That was it, nothing big to write home about.   
  
It was easier to manage during the months on the road, easier to pack things away and easier to walk around in the middle of the night without any lights on. During my three-year absence, all my plants were gone, either dead or gracing Touma's or Noriko's home and there was a touch of dust on the TV but nothing too bad. I was expecting worse. I was expecting everything to be long gone or under a cover or dust or even being totally redone like Touma had joked the last time we talked on the phone.   
  
Instead everything was almost the way I had left them. The walls were still painted the nice strong vivid colors that I had painted them over the years, the floor was still a rich golden wood covered by bright rugs of all different types and sizes, my records still hung on the walls within their glass cases, and as I counted I could tell that the last couple were new, pictures of us three during various stages of our careers intermingling among the trophy records, a few yellowing newspaper clips with them.   
  
My bedroom was painted a deep violet color, the main furniture being an extra large bed in the center of the room. Heavy blinds covered the double windows and a shelf was pushed in front of them as well. I hated waking up with sunlight in my eyes, something that I got way too much of in L.A. The bed was large because I tend to toss and turn in my sleep, something that Touma had found out long ago when we were sharing a bed in the early days. More than once I had rolled off my end dragging all the covers with me and being woke up by an angry blonde in the buff. Outside the bed and the one bookshelf were a small entertainment center and a walk in closet.   
  
Turning on the TV, I tucked Kumagorou into the think comforter and told him not to stay up too much watching horror movies before bouncing into my closet in search of clothing. I probably could go out dressed as I was but sometimes the best fun of going out was finding the perfect outfit to wear. Clothing went flying as I dug through the overflowing hangers, most of the stuff having been bought at the trendiest places in L.A. Places that I had dragged K into with pleas, big wobbly chibi eyes and much bapping on his head with Kumagorou. Most didn't rate a second glance as I pulled out a pair of old comfortable leather pants that took me two months worth of saving to buy. Humming to myself, I wiggled out of my jeans and pulled them on, grinning to myself when they fit me perfectly. Back to the closet I went looking for a shirt and finally settling on a faded black cropped tank top with the words 'Chaos=Creativity' scrawled across the front.   
  
Making a face at myself in the full-length mirror, I decided on wearing that long chain choker I got in L.A. and those linked hoop earrings. Almost wishing that K had let me get that nose piercing as well while I was there, I slipped the length of chain around my neck, sliding the loop in place so that the necklace was snug around my neck then putting the small chains on my earrings to link them together. K hated this look, said that I looked like a punked out dog but I liked it and K wasn't here to nag at me so I was going to wear it. And to top things off was a leather jacket just as old as the pants and just as comfortable.   
  
One last warning to Kumagorou, I grabbed my wallet and keys off my nightstand and slinked out for some fun, making sure to turn everything off and locking the door behind me. Never can be too careful with all the weird stalkers wandering about stealing things and stuff. Whistling to myself that odd little tune I had sung earlier that day, I skipped down the hall to the stairs. A pretty tune. . . how unfortunate it won't see the light of day with my solo career. It just wouldn't fit, now with Grasper. . .   
  
The stairs were deserted. I grinned to myself and burst into full song, my voice echoing against the concrete walls, bouncing up the stairwell for anyone to hear. Singing was one of the few things I could do well; I seriously screw up anything else unless someone was there to guide me. But all I needed to sing was a rhythm like the sound of my boots against the stone steps, falling in a simple pattern that could easily be sung to. Step-step-slide-step-step-slide-slide-step.   
  
"Tooku de me o hirkarasete, mezameru mono-tachi matteiru. Yoru no jouheki sasowarete, utsuri sumu mure no nukegara ni. . ."   
  
Breaking off the song, I banged open the door and strode into the underground garage barely winded. Walking down five flights of stairs while singing at full volume was a habit I got into when I first decided to be professional with my singing. It was a good way to build the wind and volume that a singer needed. It was also something that the press seemed to enjoy writing about in their endless drivel about the 'genius Sakuma.' Some days I have the urge to find that genius and strangle him so I could a few moments peace. American spoilt me rotten that way.   
  
My car was exactly where K said it would be. Trailing my fingers lightly over the hood, I remembered how I first saw it at that import store, just a glimpse of the deep blue paint catching the corner of my eye as I ran from college to work. I had turned to stare at the beautiful car, had even gone in to ask how much yen it cost. Without all the luxury items, it cost more than my college tuition for the next four years combined. So I had dreamed about owning and when the first check came in, I went and bought it on the spot. I didn't even know how to drive a car back then. But I learnt fast.   
  
Patting the hood, I went over to the driver's side and slid in behind the wheel, inhaling deeply the smell of fine leather. I could see how some people become obsessed with a good car, to listen to the motor purr and feel the thrum of the engine through the steering wheel. Slipping the key into the ignition, I started the engine, purring at the sound of the finely tuned engine, ever so glad that K kept the promise of making sure my car would be well taken care of. Turning on the radio and flipping to an American station, I laughed, throwing the Porsche into gear and speed through the garage, no doubt leaving skid marks behind me. I could almost hear K yelling about speed limits, but I didn't care. This car was made to race the wind and I felt like doing so tonight.   
  
I could just see the horror on the faces on all my faithful fans at the thought that their beloved child-like singer knew how to drive, let alone go out with the sole purpose of getting drunk and maybe getting laid. But I was thirty-two years old, quite capable of handling myself without needing a nursemaid. Yes, K followed me about most days, but he was my manager not my babysitter. Though if I was really the child-like simpleton that everyone thought I was, I doubt Touma would put up with my antics for long.   
  
Speeding onto the streets, I heard a horn honk over the pounding of the music playing and the screech of my tires on the tar. Steering with one hand, I flicked a finger at the car that nearly hit me, grinning as I imagined the string of names that the driver was probably calling me. Like I cared. Names were for those who were uncomfortable with their own place in life.   
  
I sang along with a few songs, driving where the whim took me. The city was alive and pulsating to its own beat, intermingling with the driving music from the radio. I had to roll down the window to hear the music better; to feel it sink into my bones like it had never left. America had a younger sound, a livelier beat, but Japan's was more expressive, deeper and richer and refined to befit its age and wisdom. Or lack of it. Opinions differ on that part. The wind tousled my cyan locks, sending the ragged hair all over the place and into my eyes.   
  
* K'so, Kumagorou was right, * I thought, coming to a stop- - barely in time - - at a red light. * I do need to get out and just hear the music. . . *   
  
As I waited for the light to turn green, I combed my hair more or less into place with my fingers and saw the blinking neon lights of a nightclub ahead. I chuckled and made a hairpin turn into the parking lot, turning off the car and grinning like a fool. The nightclub looked just right for what I wanted to do.. Fishing a pair of sunglasses from the glove box, I slipped them over my eyes and got out, locking the car before making my way towards the brightly lit club. There was a line already forming but the bouncer was only giving people a curtsy glance over before waving them in so I didn't have long to wait before getting inside.   
  
Multi-colored lights flashed from the ceiling and the walls, bodies pressed together contorting to the pulsating beat of the too loud music. From the door one stood on a balcony overlooking the dance floor, the bar nestled in one corner raised above the dance floor by several feet and squared off by chrome bars from the writhing bodies. Used to maneuvering about in the near dark while wearing sunglasses, I made my way down the stairs and towards the bar, getting bumped and groped as I weaved through the crowd. None seemed to recognize me or even care, which is what I wanted right now. The 'genius' I had left behind in my apartment and I was just Ryuuichi out looking for a good time.   
  
Making it to the bar, I slipped between the pressed bodies and ordered scotch on the rocks from a pretty woman with her hair done up in two orange and gold pigtails framing her heart shaped face. Placing the glass in front of me, she lingered a bit, brown eyes widening as I dipped my finger in the amber liquor and licked the digit clean. She giggled, leaning forward enough so I could whisper in her ear but another customer dragged her away before she could answer me. Sighing at the loss, I turned to watch the gyrating bodies, the drink in my hand.   
  
I could almost feel the tension leave my neck at the sights and sounds; tension that started there when I had started singing to ease that poor kid's stage shock. Singing can and often did relax the savage fangirl but the crowd was large and a part of me realized that if I could not calm the crowd that kid would never be able to get onto a stage again. For some reason, he reminded me of myself when I first stood up on a stage looking over the crowd of faces turned towards me, all of them waiting for the magic of the music. I had been frozen until Touma gave me a poke and Noriko started the first chord to our song. But that kid. . . he looked as if he saw a ghost coming at him. I hope he would get his stage legs under himself and soon, otherwise the good start Bad Luck had would not last long.   
  
Bringing my glass to my lips, I tipped my head back, drinking the amber fluid in one easy swallow, the burning of the liquor burning a path down my throat. Placing the glass back onto the bar, I moved onto the floor, throwing myself into the beat. Bodies pressed against me, hands touching me as I touched them, rocking and surging, the lights flashing around us, strobe lights that slowed down time to bright flashes that were like the stars in their brief intensity. I gave myself to this rhythm, moving in time with everyone around me and alone as well. I was so alone under the mask of child-like innocence, so alone in the mask of sex and music. Only the others knew of this loneliness, only they understood what was under the masks for them too had their own masks. Noriko, Touma, how they only seem to see who I really was under the masks, like I knew them underneath their own.   
  
A warm feminine body pressed against me, rocking her hips in time with the loud pounding beat. Arms twined around my shoulders, entangling with the long hair at the back of my neck, soft flower scent perfume filled my senses. Opening my eyes, I looked into the green eyes set in a soft pretty face, red lipstick accented her full lips and matching the color of her tank top. From the feel of her legs entangling with my own, I knew that she was either wearing a very short skirt or tiny shorts. I could feel her firm legs press against the leather of my pants as she molded herself to me, our bodies twisting to the beat.   
  
This was not the first time something like this happened to me nor did I believe it would be the last. Resting my hands on her hips, I smirked, my hands smoothing the fabric of the short skirt along her curves and over her round backside. Pulling her close, I mouthed the words to the song pounded through our bodies, leaning forward to catch those red, red lips in a burning kiss. The woman's lips met mine in a clash of teeth and tongue and lips, bodies moving instinctively with the pounding beat, the taste of orange liquor filling my senses. Pulling away, I raised a hand and pressed my fingers to her lips to silence anything she might say.   
  
Running my thumb across her lower lip, I leaned forward, brushing my lips against her ear. In a voice that was a husky murmur, I whispered, "No commitment, no regrets. Say yes or no, choose heaven or hell."   
  
She chuckled softly, her teeth white against the red of her lips as she nibbled briefly on my earlobe. "No regrets, and heaven is what you make of it." She pulled away and grinned wickedly, her green eyes sparkling. "And so is hell."   
  
My mouth curved into a smile as I leaned forward to press a kiss on those wicked lips. She melted against me, her body fitting close to mine, molding to every needing inch of me. It had been only a few short weeks but I was hungry for the touch of another, hungry to feel the warmth of a body pressed against mine, filling that spot that hungers for everything and gives away nothing of itself. That spot no one had touched and gotten away unscratched. Everyone had one but mine was a vicious thing and it didn't care what it did to others.   
  
"Then let's go find out which one we can touch tonight," I murmured against those lips.   
  
A nod was her response and we quickly left the nightclub and wandered to my car. Took a while to get there, since we would stop for a while to taste each other and grind slowly against each other. I drove us back to my place, growling as her hands teased me to painful hardness inside my pants, her red lips curling in a wicked smile at my frustration. Plotting wicked things to do to her, I drove into the underground parking space at my building and pulled her out of the car. For several minutes I pressed her against the concrete walls, kissing her breathless until dragging her up the stairs. She was laughing breathlessly, her green eyes dancing wickedly as I fumbled with the locks at my door, her hands everywhere. Stumbling into the brightly lit apartment, I didn't notice we were alone until I heard a familiar voice speak up behind us.   
  
"Ryuuichi, I was wondering when you would be coming home..."   
  



	3. track two

  
**= Splinters of a Song =**   
  
_Warnings and disclaimers same as in the Prologue. Nothing has changed much from that one to this one. Ryuuichi POV again. Mention of Ryuuichi x Touma in this part._   
  
**~*~*~*~*~*~**  
  
**= Track Two =**   
  
I pulled away from those tempting lips to look over my shoulder. That soft, deceptive voice coupled with a slight build and a soft smile hid one of the more vicious people that I knew. Seguchi Touma looked like a wind would blow him away but there was a lot of strength in that frame. He just did not show it. Right now, the look in his cerulean eyes made it rather clear that my current activity was not very welcome.   
  
Choices. Choices. Continuing kissing some stranger or glomping Touma. It was not a hard decision. Wiggling free of the clingy hands cupping my shoulders, I headed for a full out glomp of the blonde sitting on my futon, crying out his name with glee. Tackling Touma was one of my favorite games and now he was somewhere I can tackle him easily! His eyes widen a moment before I hit him, then we were both tumbling on to the floor.   
  
"Ryuuichi!" he squeaked.   
  
"Hey! What the hell?! What are you doing?!"   
  
I raised my head over the coffee table to blink at the woman. In this light, she really did not look at all great. The skirt was too tacky, the shirt too clashy, her hair more stringy than fine. I stared for a moment, trying to remember exactly why I picked her out. Or maybe she was one of those clingy fan types with their evil wicked ways. Her face was a riot of emotions, anger mostly. I sat up, and chewed on a fingertip absently.   
  
"Umm, dunno," I replied after a moment's pause. "What am I suppose to be doing?"   
  
The tone was bland, delivered with enough of my innocent voice and angelic face to have the woman blinking in slight confusion. Touma was not fooled by it. The glance he shot me from the corner of his eyes was enough to give me goose pimples but he still sighed and got up to handle damage control. Touma knew my moods very well indeed.   
  
I picked up Kumagorou and started spinning around the room, swinging the rabbit and singing a child's song. I could hear Touma's soft voice murmuring to the girl and her angry replies, but I didn't let them bother me at all. Too dizzy to stand anymore I flopped onto the futon and hugged Kumagorou to my chest, trying to stop the room from spinning around. I didn't look up even after the door slammed shut and I heard Touma sigh deeply.   
  
"Ryuuichi, why did you bring her here?"   
  
I raised my head so I could see him better. He had that cutely confused expression on his face, his eyebrows raised, his lower lip sticking out a little, his eyes looking directly down at me. Touma always hated surprises. He had that need to be in control of everything just like K. I sat up and patted the cushions next to me smiling at him. After a moment, he crossed the room and sat down next to me, returning the smile.   
  
I put Kumagorou down on the coffee table and maneuvered myself so that I could rest my head in his lap and letting my legs dangle over the futon's side. He stiffened at first, his hands grabbing onto my hair as if he was going to rip my head off his lap. I closed my eyes and rested my hands on my stomache, feeling the tension leave his body and his hands gently combing through my hair. It was a common position for us, his fingers relaxing the tension in my head and me resting in his lap like this. I purred, having always liked a keyboardist's hands touching me. They always knew the right amount of pressure to make the headaches go away.   
  
"Ryuuichi. . ."   
  
I sighed and opened my eyes lazily. A good friend and all, Touma had a bull doggedness about himself and whatever problem that wormed it's way in his head. He won't let me relax until he got an answer.   
  
"I'm horny and she looked like a good lay," I told him, deciding to use the crude approach.   
  
The corner of his lips curled up into a rueful smirk, his fingers rubbing my scalp and working away the forming headache. He tried to school his features into something stern and disapproving, but failing miserably.   
  
"If that woman was what you'd considered a good lay, then I'd hate to see what you dragged home in America."   
  
"Nah, K wouldn't hear of me dragging anyone home without him doing a complete background check and blood test."   
  
"You poor man, was K a tyrant?"   
  
"You have no idea," I chuckled, giving him a wink and closing my eyes. I purred some more, his nimble fingers working through my hair, combing the soft strands with a nearly possessive air. How Touma came to know K and to get a hold of the American when I decided to go to America was beyond my knowledge but I was thankful of his help all the same. Thinking of K had me thinking of that concert earlier and I sat up with a sigh, needing to ask Touma before I forgot completely about what was bothering me.   
  
"Touma, who was that guy?"   
  
"Who? Shindou-kun?"   
  
"No, not him, the other guy."   
  
"The guitarist?"   
  
I shook my head and glared at him. "The other singer. The one with the droopy eyes and the look of a disgruntle postal worker."   
  
"Oh, that was Aizawa-kun of ASK. Why do you think he looks like a disgruntle postal worker?"   
  
I nibbled on my lower lip. "I don't like him, Touma. Neither does Kumagorou. He's. . ." I tired to come up with the appropriate words in Japanese but couldn't think of anything really good so I finished it in English. "Totally ape shit."   
  
Touma's eyebrows rose, frowning at my language. "I think you've spent too much time in America."   
  
"It's true though. I wouldn't be surprised if he goes ape shit over something and start hurting people. He feels. . . bad that way." I played with my necklace, looking down at Touma's hands. "Just watch out around him, okay Touma?"   
  
"I will, Ryuuichi," he replied, rising from his seat. "I have to go, tomorrow is going to be a long day and I need some sleep. But I am glad that you are back home again. Maybe we can have lunch tomorrow?"   
  
I blinked up at him, feeling a pout spread across my lips. Of course Touma would busy tomorrow, being a successful president of a thriving record company but still I had hoped he would stay for a while so we could talk. He smiled at me, holding out a hand to me in a gesture that was mostly American. I gripped his hand and gave it a sharp tug towards me. He squeaked, his legs entangling with mine, one hand going to my shoulder to keep from falling completely against me. I titled my head, brushing my lips against his.   
  
"It's too early to call it a night," I murmured.   
  
He sighed softly, lips parting, his strong keyboardist hands running through my hair as he arched against me. His pressed his lips against mine, so familiar and sweet. The years were swept away and forgotten. There was only this moment and this familiar heat rising between us. A song that had no music and it's only lyrics were the sounds we made striving against each other in tangled sheets until the song ended in a burning flame and was lost for a time. Tangled with each other, we slept.   
  



	4. track three

  
**= Splinters of a Song =**   
  
_Warnings and disclaimers same as in the Prologue. Nothing has changed much from that one to this one. Ryuuichi POV again. Mention of Ryuuichi x Touma in this part, as well as some references to ep. three of the anime._   
  
**~*~*~*~*~*~**  
  
**= Track Three =**   
  
Six am was too early to get up for any sane person. Only that weird breed called a morning person could be happily awake at this time of day.   
  
I tried to burrow further into the blankets, swatting ineffectively at the hand gently shaking my shoulder. Touma chuckled softly, the voice muffled by the blankets I was trying to pull over my head. Then he gave my ear a light nibble, puffing warm air over that sensitive spot. I tried to reach for him, letting go of the blankets and they were suddenly yanked away from me.   
  
"Aiie! Touma, it's cold!" I shrieked, trying to grab onto the blankets and covering myself at the same time.   
  
He laughed again, a soft rich sound, holding my blankets out of my reach. I gave up after a moment and grabbed the pillows to make them into blankets, muttering about evil blonde keyboardists and their evil early morning ways. Touma watched me with amused eyes then crawled onto the bed, leaving the blankets on the floor. I grabbed a pillow and bapped him with it, complaining non-stop about his need to be up before the sun and waking everyone else up and being an evil blanket stealer, and having cold feet. He stopped at that one and gave me an unamused look.   
  
"I do not have cold feet."   
  
"Uh-huh! Cold feet an' cold nose an' blanket stealin' an- mfph!"   
  
His warm lips, as light as honey and just as sweet, pressed to mine in a caste kiss cutting off my words. The keyboardist ruffled my hair, smiling softly as he stood and picked up his hat from off the TV. Picking up my blankets, he tossed them at me and while I struggled to unbury myself, he dropped Kumagorou onto the bed.   
  
"Goodbye, Ryuu, I have an appointment I must make but I am expecting to see you later for lunch. We can talk more then."   
  
I contemplated hitting him with a Kuma-beam but it was too early in the morning to even try. So I blew him a raspberry, straightened out my blankets, grabbed Kumagorou and snuggled a pillow. Blissful sleep claimed me again, and I was right in the middle of climbing the top of the biggest sundae in the world when the world was turned up side down and Kumagorou, all my blankets and I were flying in the air. I think I managed a squeak before ending up on the floor in a pile of cold limbs, fluffy blankets and a pink bunny.   
  
Unearthing myself from the tangle, I glared at the second blonde to disturb my sleep. K didn't even flinch, his smug smile and cocky hands-on-hips pose radiating satisfaction in a job well done. I pouted, grabbed Kumagorou and tried to bury myself in the pile on the floor. Since no one would let me sleep on the bed, I might as well sleep on the floor was my reasoning.   
  
"Oh no you don't," K said in his deep and heavily accented voice. Once again I was airborne as he jerked my blankets away. "We have a record to finish today at N-G."   
  
"I dun wanna go," I pouted, snuggling Kumagorou and wishing the rabbit was big enough for a blanket.   
  
"The quicker you get it done, the quicker you can go back to bed."   
  
"But I dun wanna go!"   
  
He chuckled and I risked opening an eye to look at him. I didn't see any gun being waved at me, nor was there any hint of that nasty 'I-am-going-to-blow-something-up' grin of his either. I looked wildly around to see if a different K had replaced K or that he had put down land mines or something, but the blonde just gave my hair a ruffle and brought his face close to mine. I eeped and tried to hide behind Kumagorou. K wouldn't hurt the pink bunny, right?   
  
"Things got hot last night didn't they?"   
  
"Huh?"   
  
He smirked and took off his sunglasses, his electric blue eyes looking over my mostly nude body. I felt my cheeks grow hot at the look and tried to find somewhere to hide myself. "You must have had a hot date last night. There are scratches all over your back and that's a pretty vivid love bite on your neck."   
  
I could feel the slow heat spreading down my neck and to my ears. I remembered last night, his strong keyboardist's hands gripping my shoulders, clawing at my back, soft, his sweet lips pressing against my neck, the occasional feel of teeth scraping my skin, his soft alto voice murmuring in my ear. The memories did more than just give me a blush but also caused a part of me become well awake in nearly an instant. I covered myself with Kumagorou and wished for a sheet or something to use instead. K laughed at the look on my face and gave me a nudge towards the bathroom.   
  
Pfting the American, I was up and in the room locking the door before his laughter had even died. I put Kumagorou on the shelf next to the rubber ducky and took care of business before jumping into the shower. A quick ten minutes later, I was out of the shower and drying my hair, singing a child's song about rice off key and through my nose, causing the pink bunny to cover his ears. I apologized, brushed my teeth and went back to my bedroom and starting tearing things apart looking for something to wear. Deciding on blue jeans, a bowling shirt and jean jacket, I snagged my hat from a lamppost, Kuma from the bathroom and a couple of lollipops and headed for the living room. K was sitting on my futon, paging through my notebook and drinking some coffee from a styrofoam cup.   
  
"Can I have some coffee?" I asked, trying to grab the notebook from him.   
  
He gave me a look and held my notebook out of my reach. "It will stunt your growth."   
  
"But I want some!" I tried to grab the cup instead.   
  
The blonde stood up and shook his head, handing me the notebook. "Why do you need coffee? You're hyper enough without it."   
  
"Because I want some," I said, firmly tucking the notebook into an inner pocket with a video, candy and Kumagorou. "You never let me have any and it tastes good especially that stuff from that really expensive store in America and if I can't have breakfast I can at least get some coffee and Kumagorou says I can have some."   
  
K glanced at me and chuckled, heading for the door. "Oh he did?"   
  
"He did so there." I stuck my tongue out at his back as I followed him.   
  
"I suppose I shouldn't go against Kumagorou's wishes."   
  
"Otherwise it's Kuma-beam!"   
  
He laughed and waited while I locked up my apartment and headed for the stairs with a skip. He groaned behind me, never one to really like going down stairs like I do, but he knew by now not to argue with me about it. Hitting the garage I headed for my car declaring that I can drive us to N-G. K tried to stop me and the next few minutes were filled with struggling to see who will win the argument. K won, especially when he took out his new gun and waved it at me, so with a grumble I ended up sitting in the passenger seat of K's car watching the city go by. Daylight Tokyo was a far cry from the nighttime beat and I soon got bored enough to take out my notebook and scribbled nonsense to pass the time away.   
  
K finally pulled up to a neat looking building and turned off the engine and I took my first good look of N-G's new headquarters. When I had left for America, Touma's record company still inhabited the first two floor of a renovated hotel. He had told me of the move to better facilities but this was the first time I actually saw them. I was out of the car as soon as I thought it was safe to do so and stood there for a good minute ooohing at the sight. Then bouncing in place, I waited for K then started to march along the sidewalk, singing horribly off-key and with enough nasal to sound like I had a very bad cold and needed my nose blown.   
  
Marching along and singing like I was, I nearly didn't see the pink haired young man sitting on the sidewalk behind some decorative plants. His falling face first onto the hard concrete brought me to a halt and I said the first thing on my mind at the moment.   
  
"Ooh, he suddenly stopped!'   
  
"Ryuuichi, don't you mean that he suddenly collapsed?"   
  
I pfted K and helped Suuichi up into a sitting position. The young singer hugged his knees to his chest and pouted at the ground, looking so miserable I tried to give him a pat on the back and asked him what was wrong. He shrugged me off and looked at his knees.   
  
"It's it okay if I don't talk about this?" he sniffed, eyes tearing up.   
  
"Oh, don't cry. If you don't cry I'll give you a reward," I replied, digging around in my pockets, offering him everything I could find: Kumagorou, some candy, one of my videos, a wisdom tooth, a mole cricket I found on the ground, a wooden yo-yo.   
  
He sniffled and said in a low voice, "I don't know what I should do. What do I do if I made Hiro mad? If it's not Bad Luck, I can't sing."   
  
"It's okay," I replied. "You can still sing, Suuichi. The concert was fun, wasn't it? You like fun things, right Suuichi?"   
  
His expression was one of both surprise and realization. For a moment I thought he would collapse again and start crying but then he started asking for something named 'su'. Muddling over the word, I pulled out a bird's nest first. He shook his head and said 'su' again so I asked him if it was vinegar he wanted, even pulling out a big bottle of the stuff to show him. He stared at it for a moment, his lips forming the word then grabbed it from my grasp and started drinking it all. Once done, he declared he liked it and that he was going to go show Hiro what he was made out of before marching off. I blinked after him then craned my head to look up at K.   
  
"He got all better, na no da."   
  
K laughed. "So he did. Now you better hurry, you have three more tracks to complete."   
  
"But K, you haven't got me any coffee yet!"   
  
"You can get it in the studio. Now, let's get going."   
  
I pouted and pleaded but K was unmoving so at last I turned my feet into the wide-open ground floor with a sigh. I still didn't have those lyrics for those songs yet, not that it wouldn't do me any good to tell K. I followed K around the building until we reached one of the sound studios. He introduced me to a pair of sound mixers, pointed me to the nearest canned coffee machine and told me to behave while he took care of a few things. I eyed the two people, decided that they were okay and sighed to myself. I just couldn't delay in finishing the album any longer. Maybe listening to the music tracks laid out by the studio musicians following my scribbles might inspire me but it felt like this album will never be done.   
  
I tried a couple of ideas, scraped them both, worked on a new thought before calling it a day. It was always better to work on something this difficult when one was refreshed and I still did not get enough sleep between molesting Touma and getting woken up by Touma then K. Not to mention jet lag catching me and trying to drag me unconscious. Thinking that I was starting to show my age and wondering what happened to the energy of being twenty-five and able to stay up for three days straight with maybe an hour's sleep in that time. Oh well, the only constant was death and taxes. Since I gave myself the rest of the day off, I figured I could at least visit my two favorite blondes and see what trouble they were getting into without me there to help them out. So I wandered the building in search of them, ending up outside of Touma's office door. Tapping lightly, I opened the door and beamed at the two blondes inside. They should hide better or something for me to find them.   
  
"Here's where you are hiding. I was looking for you two, na no da!"   
  
I bounced in and the men exchanged a glance and then looked at me. I stopped and eyed them, feeling suddenly worried about something. All sorts of thoughts went through my head, all from 'Touma was dying' to 'K was dying' to 'K and Touma were both dying and were going to run off together'. I pulled Kumagorou from my pocket and began to chew on his ear in worry.   
  
"Wha' wrong, na no da?"   
  
It was K who finally spoke up. "Ryuuichi, I am quitting as your manager."   
  



	5. interlude

  
**= Splinters of a Song =**   
  
_Warnings and disclaimers same as in the Prologue. Nothing has changed much from that one to this one. Ryuuichi POV again. Mention of Ryuuichi x Touma in this part, as well as some references to ep. three of the anime.  
**Author notes:** I am working on the fifth part to the story but the muses decided in their evil ways to hint at how Nittle Grasper first got together. I am drawing on a lot of stuff that probably wouldn't happen in real life but who knows how far RL copies fiction. The ages are as accurate as I can figure them out and the time of this session is probably about early March sometime so Ryuu and Noriko will be younger than Touma. Hopefully it won't make too much nonsense to anyone reading this. _   
  
**~*~*~*~*~*~**  
  
**= Interlude =**   
  
The brown haired teen looked too thin for the clothing he wore. Touma looked at the young man, unimpressed with his appearance. Already they had several possible singers for their group lined up, all of them flashier looking in clothing that would do a professional band proud. Touma barely even knew this kid from some of his classes; he was quiet and sat in the back row but smart if the grade curve was any indication.   
  
He did have the light coloring that marked him as being a descendant of either mixed blood or of the mountain people in northern Japan. Chestnut brown hair with lighter copper streaks through the heavier darks strands, pale skin and a pair of brilliant blue eyes like the calm sea, yet all in all, Touma didn't think much of him. He did not look like someone who knew how to sing, let alone anyone who set the stage on fire. But he did make the addition open and even though he had several possibilities lined up, he had yet to hear anyone that could match him and Noriko's keyboards.   
  
The brunette dropped a battered book bag onto the floor and nudged it into an out of the way corner, clearing his throat and glancing at Touma then at Noriko. Again Touma wondered about the wisdom of him and Noriko trying out for the Spring Festival this year. It was only their first year together trying out this band idea and they had plenty of time before they would really need to look for a singer for the senior festival, but both of them felt the time was right. This chemistry between the two of them needed something more in order to be anything but a pipe dream of success.   
  
"Sakuma Ryuuichi," the teen said in a soft voice, flashing a slight smile at the two of them. He relaxed a little, standing a little straighter. "Second class sophomore, age 16. You w. . . wanted a singer?"   
  
Touma noted the voice. Soft, with good pitch and timber, but not loud enough to over power a concert hall full of people yelling and screaming. But Ryuuichi was just talking right now. Who knows, maybe he had a lot more power when he sang.   
  
"Seguchi Touma, second class, age 17," Touma replied, nodding in greeting.   
  
"Inoue Noriko, junior classman age 14," the lavender haired girl piped up from behind her keyboard. She and Touma met at the Music Club when school started. The blond was playing on his keyboard when he found the hyper girl working a counterpoint harmony to his random notes. Later they talked and played a few more songs and next thing they knew they were calling themselves Nittle Grasper after a weird drink Noriko's mom invented.   
  
Ryuuichi gave her a startled look, one eyebrow raised and his mouth opening slightly as if he was about to ask a question. Then glancing over at Touma, he snapped his mouth shut and fiddled with the edge of his shirt cuffs, shifting back and forth on his feet. He was constantly in motion, Touma noted, never still and always looking at everything with bright inquisitive eyes.   
  
"Okay, Ryuuichi-san, all we want to do is hear you sing one of these songs we have here. . ." Touma began holding out a handful of music sheets stapled together.   
  
Ryuuichi waved it away. "I don't need them."   
  
"Are you sure?"   
  
He nodded. "I heard the others singing so I can pretty much guess how the words fall. If not then it's my bad, right?"   
  
Touma and Noriko exchanged another glance then Touma shrugged. If the brunette wanted to do things the hard way, then it was his choice. Setting the music sheets aside, the blonde moved behind his precious keyboard and flipped on the drum track. One loop was played with just drums then Noriko picked up the drums' beat with her keyboard's guitar riffs and base. Then Touma filled in the spaces with layers of sounds, building it up to the crescendo where the vocals were to kick in. This was the hardest part of the test. Only three out of the countless people managed to start on the right beat at the right moment. And out of those three only one had enough air to carry the note then break into the full melody without losing air at the wrong break.   
  
Ryuuichi caught the note, hit it on the right beat and his voice was soaring. There was no breaks, no unscheduled pauses. The first phrase of words flowed from his lips in a throaty, sexy tenor purr, and the carrying power of that voice barely needing the small microphone to amplify over the combined keyboards. Touma's fingers nearly stumbled over the next part and he heard Noriko's fingers miss a chord as Ryuuichi moved with the song, slender body swaying, brilliant eyes sliding half shut looking like pure sin. Touma could almost feel something build in the air, feel the small rehearsal room grow too hot yet it felt like he was miles away, completely above the pains of his body as he felt the last piece click in place.   
  
Then reality came crashing down on them hard and they were back in that school rehearsal room with dust motes dancing on the slanted rays of sunlight through the high glazed windows. Ryuuichi's voice and the final chords of the keyboards still echoed in the tiny room. Touma's fingers shook as he pulled them away from his keyboard. Noriko blew some lavender strands from her eyes and stared at Touma before looking at Ryuuichi. The brunette was shifting from foot to foot, the mic still in one hand.   
  
"Ryuuichi, I think you are perfect for the part," Touma finally said. Noriko cheered and rushed to glomp the brunette while Touma looked on.   
  



	6. track four

  
**= Splinters of a Song =**   
  
_Warnings and disclaimers same as in the Prologue. Nothing has changed much from that one to this one. Ryuuichi POV again. Mention of Ryuuichi x Touma in this part, as well as some references to ep. three of the anime. **This part contains a ToumaxRyuuichi lemon. My lemon writing skills aren't much so bear with me.**  
**Author notes:** The lyrics are from the song 'I saw my lady weep', an ayre from the 1600's written by John Dowland. It's an interesting piece to hear and perform, especially as it was meant to be. It can be found in a collection of works done by Oxford University Press in any music store that caters to singers of classical works. _   
  
**~*~*~*~*~*~**  
  
**= Track Four =**   
  
It was later when I heard the door hiss open and closed behind me. I was busy watching the dust motes dancing on the sunbeam, laying stretched out on the threadbare couch, Kumagorou acting as a pillow for my head. I didn't bother to see which blonde it was until I felt the soft slap on my leg. Letting my arm drop I gave Touma a tired frown, sat up and rubbed my face. The blonde sat gracefully on the cushion next to me and waited while I gathered my thoughts together.   
  
After K's blunt announcement, I decided not to stick around in that overly bright office. My sudden decision to run must had startled K for my manager- - former manager, rather- - chased me out the office down several halls, up a couple flights of steps and a few other places until I lost him somewhere around the sound studios. Wanting time alone to think and needed the quiet to do so without having all my thoughts crowding in on each other, I found a soundproof studio to hide in and think.   
  
The soundproof room was not like a lot of the other rooms in N-G, all bright and shiny with new furniture and the latest equipment. Instead it had a battered couch, two old chairs, an upright piano and a bench. There were a couple stands folded and resting in the corner for sheet music and a couple of sockets to plug in guitars or other type of equipment along the one bare wall. Windows set high above the upright let in a soft breeze as well as plenty of light and I bet that this room saw a lot of use for impromptu jam sessions at all times of days and night. It reminded me of that room where I first became a part of Nittle Grasper, though there was one difference. This room did not smell of canned oysters like that room did so long ago.   
  
I grabbed Kumagorou and hugged the bunny close, watching as Touma drifted to the upright and placed his fingers on the keys. Chords sounded in the air. First G then A flat then C sharp, building mountains of sound from the modest looking instrument. I listened for a few moments, watching those slender fingers play over the keys, the graceful neck arched, those bright eyes focused on his fingers. At first the notes were random, bits and pieces snatched from songs old and new, but then the tone changed, the notes settled into a familiar song. I let him play the first verse through then joined the piano on the second verse, letting my feelings echo in the song.   
  
_Sorrow was there made fair   
And passion wise, tears a delightful thing   
Silence beyond all speech a wisdom rare   
She made her sighs to sing   
And all things with so sweet a sadness move   
As made my heart at once both grieve and love _  
  
Touma's hands stilled on the piano, his head rising to look at me, blonde brows pulled into a slight frown. My voice finished the bitter sweet song, singing it as it was probably once meant to be sung with the echoing notes only telling the singer what note comes next.   
  
_O fairer than aught else   
The world can show, leave off in time to grieve.   
Enough, enough your joyful looks excels,   
Tears kills the heart, believe.   
O strive not to be excellent in woe,   
Which only breeds your beauty's overthrow. _  
  
"Sometimes I forget you had classical training, Ryuuichi," he finally said, turning and taking a seat on the hard piano bench.   
  
"I doubt my Noh sensei would have approved my taking a liking for Western music," I replied, feeling the corner of my mouth twist.   
  
He dismissed that thought with a wave of his hand. "You have a good voice for that style of music."   
  
"I'm good at mimicking all kinds of styles." I shrugged, wrapped my arms around my legs and resting my chin on my knees. "Was K really mad at me for running?"   
  
"He was more concerned that you would hurt yourself than he was mad."   
  
"I'm over that."   
  
"Are you really, Ryuuichi?"   
  
I glanced up at Touma, seeing the concern in his eyes and thought it over before nodding slightly. His stiff posture relaxed slightly as he took off his hat and crossed one leg over the other. He still looked like someone sitting in a board meeting or awaiting an award. I guessed it was from his youth, which was rough in some ways and lucky in other ways. At least his family semi-approved of their son's musical inclination, though they were not happy he went into mainstream music instead of classical.   
  
"Mind telling me what is happening and why my manager of over three years is quitting?"   
  
Touma sighed. "That American needs to learn better Japanese. He is not quitting, merely finding a new position once his contract with you is done."   
  
"Can you just explain it to me in simple language?"   
  
"K-san has been contracted for as long as you are doing solo work in America, correct?" I nodded slowly. "You've only made a three record deal with your American label, which will be finished when you record those last three tracks." I nodded again, everything starting to make sense to me. "K-san will be a free agent at the completion of that album and was looking into how to extend the contract with N-G concerning you when he over heard me speaking with Sakano-san concerning his poor management of Bad Luck. As a producer Sakano-san is good but his management skills are atrocious, and told him as such after Shindou-san refused to act upon my suggestions to make Bad Luck better."   
  
Raising a shoulder in a shrug, Touma looked unruffled at the concerns of Suuichi's refusal, but I knew him better than most. Suuichi must have been either very stubborn or very good to keep from having himself and his friend being kicked out the studio and black labeled for that refusal. Suuichi got Touma mad and survived. Maybe the pink haired teen was a lot tougher than his opening day jitters revealed. It made me wonder if we were anything like that when we were still young and trying to break down doors as well.   
  
"As I said, K-san over heard and in the course of the talk concerning renewal of his contract, he asked over who I would get to manage Bad Luck now. My answer was not acceptable to him. Like you, he seems to be rather interested in Shindou-san's career. And dropped some rather broad hints that he would manage them a lot better than anyone else in N-G. And that is when you walked in."   
  
"Oh," I replied, nodding my head slowly. Then gave it a second to sink into my skull. "Oooh, why didn't K say so? And here I thought he was purposely dumping me."   
  
A soft smile touched his cupid bow lips, softening the hard look in his eyes. He stood and crossed the room, his pose as graceful of that of a dancer's. One slender hand rose, pausing millimeters from touching my cheek. I tilted my head, closing the distance between us, looking up at him, watching those crystalline aqua eyes, and smelling the light fragrance of his cologne. The soundproofing on this room made it quiet and private, locking us in our own private world. Too bad I had to break it wide open again.   
  
"What about Mika?"   
  
The colour of his eyes muted and he tried to yank his hand back but by then I had covered it with one of my own. He frowned, locking gazes trying to out stare me, read me right and sat down on the couch next to me with a soft sniff of disapproval. Kumagorou went onto on of the chairs and I shifted so I could read his eyes.   
  
"C'mon, talk, Touma," I said, mouth curling up in what felt like a nasty smile. "It's probably not as bad as the shit you told me six years ago."   
  
His eyebrows rose, his pale skin paling further until I was almost sure he would pass out on me. But he gave a little shake of his head, pressed his lips together in a frown and glared at me. That was much better than the horrible face he was making before, but I was immune to his glares and threats and practically anything else that he could throw at me. Like a very few people in this world, I knew Touma before during and after those events that one lazy summer and I was not someone he could get rid of or ignore.   
  
He looked away, staring at the sun shadows on the far wall and sighed. I gave him some time, brushing my fingers lazily up and down his arm, feeling the tenseness in his muscles. He married her to please his parents, something that I could never do. But sometimes I wonder how much he really cared for her. Last night, he reacted like someone that hadn't been bedded for years.   
  
"Mika-san and I have an understanding concerning some things," he said slowly, probably trying to gather his thoughts.   
  
"Uh-huh."   
  
I kept my thoughts to myself about how him sleeping with his old lover may not be a part of the understanding they might have. He glanced back at me, lips pressing together, eyes narrowed. The problem with me being able to read him was that he knew my moods better than anyone and could read me just as easily. No doubt he could hear my thoughts a mile off.   
  
"Granted, I doubt that she would be too pleased that we've renewed our acquaintance, but she knows how my tastes run and she isn't going to deny me my pleasures."   
  
"Except the fact that you probably haven't seen anyone except me," I hazarded and saw it hit the mark as Touma's features went cherry red.   
  
". . .It wouldn't do for someone in my position to be out. . .cruising for dates downtown. . . "   
  
"I do it all the time."   
  
"You were in America. That sort of thing is expected of their musicians."   
  
"But I'm not an American musician but Japanese. You don't expect me to live like a monk just because you had asked me to wait for the ten years to be up, did you?"   
  
He looked sadly down at me and I couldn't stand it anymore. Letting go, I pushed off of the couch and paced the room, feeling the headache boil behind my eyes. Seven years ago, our little daydream was interrupted by real life. The marriage to Mika had been arranged since they were still in diapers between the two Kyoto families, and even though Touma was a superstar and the closest thing to a lover I would ever have, he answered their summons to return home. Nittle Grasper wasn't the big shiny legend it is now, just a powerhouse of music and super stardom. So the two months he needed then to arrange his wedding to Mika and the following six months he took off later that year to take Eiri to New York had almost spelled Nittle Grasper's doom. And it broke me.   
  
I prowled the room restlessly, from wall to wall, corner to corner, avoiding furniture on instinct alone. Touma stayed where he was, but I could feel his eyes on me, watching me for signs of cracking. There was a time I would have dug out a razor or a knife or break some glass to cut myself. Like singing it was a release of all the pent up hurt and emotions that would not stop screaming inside my head, but I was better now. No more scaring friends about my ways of expressing emotions that I did not even know the names for. I smacked a hand hard against a solid object, closing my eyes and resting my head against the mustard yellow wall.   
  
"I don't think I can wait that long, Touma," I said softly, my voice sounded like a tired whine to my ears. "I've tried, but I don't like being alone. Can't. . . can't you call it off early?"   
  
"I've asked, Ryuu," his voice was soft as mine as he moved. I shuddered faintly, feeling those strong keyboardist hands resting on my shoulders, feeling his warm breath against my neck. How long have I been wanting this, needing this? How long has it shattered me not to feel anything like this?   
  
"The arrangement between our families was for ten years before either of us can break it off," he continued, his voice muffled slightly when he pressed his face against my shoulder, hands going from my shoulders to my waist. "Mika has her boyfriend hiding in the shadows. . . I just thought it would be easier. . ."   
  
I ached to turn around, to pull him into my arms and hold him, to chase away the shadows in his voice. I remembered a different time, the same voice echoing in my memory, the broken phrase of how it was his fault and that he had killed Eiri just as surely as Kitazawa had. Remembering how my song shattered like crystal dropped from the Tokyo Tower watching a stranger in Touma's skin accept Mika as his wife then proceeded to ignore me for her and her shattered brother. I remembered and could not move.   
  
". . .Easier to keep to the letter of the contract if we broke up before the wedding. I didn't think that it would take this long to find a way around it. . ."   
  
Remembering how cold my bed was since that day, remembering how alone I felt, remembering the sharp splinters clawing at me, the first time I slashed at myself to find some way to scream what I was feeling. Remembering turning to Kumagorou for just a touch of having someone that cared for me as much as I cared for them. Remembering again the dingy room where I first met the others of Nittle Grasper. I shivered, feeling his arms around me, and leaned back against his taller form.   
  
"We all had hoped that it would be easier, but life isn't a song or a video," I sighed, tilting my head to look at him. "Touma. . ."   
  
His eyes were the colour of fresh bluebells still touched by morning dew. Fingers gentle cupped my chin, his lips closing over mine in apology and promise. So gentle, even though it was his stranger's face that broke me all those years ago. Arching up against him, I whimpered, my right hand going to his hip, my left to knock off his hat and to tangle in his fine blonde hair. The last thinking part of me was glad we were in that little obscure soundproof room.   
  
We kissed for a long time, lips parting for air, tongues twining between us then pressing close again, soft sounds swallowed in the throat of the other. His fingers played across my body like one of his keyboards, finding all my spots, tugging me free of my clothing, tracing patterns across my shivering skin. My own fingers were not idle in freeing him of his own clothing, tracing the taunt skin over his ribs cage, following the faint line of golden curls down. He cried out, breaking from the kiss and fumbled with his jacket pockets. I leaned against the wall, raising my right leg to wrap around his hips and draw him even closer where I wanted him to be. He gave up his search to steady himself against me, his hands gripping my hips as I teased him.   
  
He bent down to claim my lips again, his hips moving up against me, his hardness sliding right where I wanted it. I pulled my lips away, my back arching, my legs going around him, feeling him so hot and hard and filling me just right. My gasp was echoed by his low moan, his lips trailing down my neck, my hands digging into his shoulders. We held still like that for a long moment until I shifted, trying to get him to move. His fingers dug into my hips, his teeth nipped at my neck then he started moving.   
  
It was a rhythm older than time. He pressed deep, drew back, pressed deep again, over and over. I clung to his shoulders, trying to match each movement, but lacking true leverage to dictate the dance. Odd sounds escaped my lips, whimpers and whines and moans for more, harder and faster until he covered my mouth with his own, burying my words somewhere behind his tonsils. Our slow rhythm lasts for only a short while as our bodies moved harder and faster against each other, bodies' slick with sweat, my back arching getting closer. Then wetness filled me, hot and thick, my name on that light, hoarse voice. Shuddering, my head fell back on my shoulders as I came, silently screaming his name, following him into oblivion.   
  



	7. track five

_Warnings and disclaimers same as in the Prologue. Nothing has changed much from that one to this one. Ryuuichi POV again. Mention of K + Ryuuichi in this part, as well as some references to ep. three of the anime. Some limish action between Ryuuichi and Touma as well.  
**AN:** THis part is a little bleh but Touma and Ryuu were being yaoi bunnies and didn't want to end their little loving scenes. ^^; Hopefully there will be more later on in the story. _   
  
**~*~*~*~*~*~**  
  
**= Track Five =**  
  
It was like we were two teenagers just starting to understand this wonderful thing called sex. Ten minutes after our first orgasm, we were moving against each other again in slow teasing circles, our mouths open and wet against each other's skin. The cold air and wall felt good to my overheated skin, a sharp contrast to the hot youthful body pressing against me, the heat rising in me. His blunt teeth worried at the already tender love bite on my neck, a whine escaping my throat at the mingling pleasure and pain. He was getting hard again and I was quickly following him when there was a loud clap of air and the sound of a gunshot.   
  
I squeaked, my head hitting the wall. Touma jumped, glared at the other blond that just entered the room, brandishing a .45 Magnum at us like we were wild animals he wanted to put on his wall. I squeaked again as Touma turned and I had to hastily cover myself with my hands. It wasn't that K hasn't seen me naked- - dressing rooms for tours were always cramp and crowded and lacking in private areas unless one was female among a male band- - it was I didn't want him to see me sweaty, disheveled and above all else, semen covered like I was at the moment.   
  
Hell, even a legendary singer should be allowed private moments with a lover or three without their managers seeing every bit of it.   
  
I bolted behind the couch and glared over the top at K while he and Touma had a quiet- - for K anyways- - argument over knocking first, privacy and that we're both adults and I could damn well sleep with whomever I wanted too and he didn't need to act like Rambo half the time. K countered that Touma was taking advantaged of me, that I -still- haven't finished those three tracks and that Touma should know better than acting like a horny teenager. I didn't even dare to open my mouth to get involved with the argument. I've heard it all before, in various places and tones, and with various firearms waving about.   
  
With a growl that we 'Better clean the hell up!' K slammed out of the room, causing me to jump then curse my sudden headache. Touma sighed in the returned stillness and turned to look at me.   
  
"Are you okay?"   
  
"I banged my head against the wall, but it's nothing that some aspirins won't take care off," I replied, draping my arms over the back of the couch. "I think K is really pissed."   
  
I heard Touma sigh faintly. "I wish you didn't pick up K's habit of saying random -and- vulgar English words. . ."   
  
"But Japanese can be -so- hard!" I protested, pouting at him as he started gathering clothing strewn about the room. "You can have one syllable mean two or three or four different things! With English, one word means maybe two things at the most!"   
  
"Does this mean if Nittle Grasper ever got back together again, you'll be writing everything in English?"   
  
I blew him a rasberry and got a face full of jeans as he tossed them at me. I clawed the pants off my face and pulled them on, thinking that I could stand the stickiness long enough to get home and get a shower. Touma handed me a handkerchief and I used that to clean the worse of the mess off my stomache before buttoning my pants up and pulling on my shirt.   
  
"Actually, I like playing with Japanese words to get a finished product," I said combing my fingers through my hair and watching Touma wiggle into his clothing. I glanced away, not needing to get hard again. "At least for Nittle Grasper. America was a bit different. . . Ne, Touma?"   
  
He had bent down to pick up his hat, nearly completely dressed without his jacket or his hat on that was. He looked up at his name, one eyebrow arched and his cupid bow lips pressed together in a slight frown. He was half between being the businessman of N-G and being the quiet, shy man I felt for, and I felt a pang for the days when we were younger and when the world didn't intrude on our world.   
  
"I miss Nittle Grasper. . . Can we get back together and play like we did before?"   
  
Touma brushed his hat off and set it on top of his head, his lips pressed together in thought. Then picking up his jacket and shaking it off, he nodded.   
  
"I think we can get the band together. I would have to see if Noriko would be free enough to do so between family and her interests but we would have no trouble with finding producer or manager or a recording label. . . Let me see what I can do and then I'll get back to you, alright?"   
  
I cheered and crossed the floor, glomping Touma and snuggling close. He smelt of sex, and his arms gave me a brief squeeze before he untangled himself from me, gave me a quick kiss and then left the room. I bounced over to Kumagorou and picked him up, tossing the rabbit into the air before setting him on top of my head. Then I left the room to face the wrath of the American.   
  
The American was not in that bad of a mood. Either that or I was too worn out and tired looking for him in good conscious to start yelling at me for skipping out of a recording session to get laid. He gave me a once over then sighed to himself.   
  
"Ryuuichi, Ryuuichi, I suppose you want to go home." I nodded and looked as pitiful as I coould. He sighed again then gestured for me to follow him to the car. Gleeing inside I did so.   
  
I rested my head against the window, watching the rest of Tokyo go by while K drove. The car was quiet, far too quiet than it should be, K having only grunted a response once when I asked for a ride home after he caught me with my pants down. I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes, noticing the closed off expression on his face then went back to watching out the window.   
  
I didn't expect him to say anything to me about this afternoon, but as we drove off the one freeway and entered a quieter area, he sighed and glanced at me. I pretended not to notice, taking Kumagorou and holding him up to wave at the cars we were passing. He stopped at a red light and I heard him take another sigh before he said my name.   
  
"Ryuuichi, you shouldn't be sleeping with Touma."   
  
I pressed my forehead against the glass, watching the world go by. There was an odd note in his voice, like he was both saddened and tired.   
  
"He's married for one thing and he isn't the kind who can love you like you deserve. Besides, he's pining away for that brother of his wife's, what a sorry sort of person that he is. You should find someone more stable and able to give you what you need."   
  
I laughed at that, a bitter, half snort of amusement that I quickly clamped my teeth around but it did catch K's attention. He broke off, eyed me and frowned.   
  
"What's so funny?"   
  
I sighed and looked at him full on. "Neither of us is capable of love, K. I give myself to the music and whatever is left is just a good dose of lust. Touma also gave a lot of himself to the music and his duty. We aren't people that can love. . . Well, not anymore."   
  
K didn't have a response for that, though I could feel his eyes on me as I went back to watching Kumagorou wave at people and think.   
  



	8. track six

_Warnings and disclaimers same as in the Prologue. Nothing has changed much from that one to this one. Ryuuichi POV. Some mentions of ep. three of the anime and some more randomness from characters.  
**AN:** Here we go, the long awaited chapter. Sorry about the delay to those that are still reading this, RL caught up with me and my muses decided they needed a break. The tiny sample lyrics come from my own imagination and I shall appologise for it's silliness in advance. Thanks goes out to my reviewers, the few of you that there are. I do love the encouragement to continue with this piece. _   
  
**~*~*~*~*~*~**  
  
**= Track Six =**  
  
I woke up the next morning thinking that K or Touma or someone would be waiting for me to get up, most likely holding a pot full of cold water to dump on me, or an air horn by my ear or something. I was almost disappointed to find that I was alone. In silence I took my shower and brush my teeth, giving the person in the mirror the finger before going back to my bedroom to pull on some clothes. Me dislike mornings? What would ever give anyone that idea?   
  
Looking into my closet, I decided on some blue jeans with a fancy stenciled design on the leg, a long white turtleneck underneath a short and battered yellow sweater to wear today. It wasn't like I really needed to wear anything to impress anyone, or that anyone cared what I would wear. I had the feeling that if I decided to wear a grass skirt and bondage straps the rest of Japan would still find no fault with me. The press already thought my bunny outfit was an outward sign of my genius.   
  
It was just one of those days where I felt like taking everyone around me and stabbing them repeatedly. Just a swing in moods that hits and nothing and no one could really snap me out of it. I stepped out the door thinking evil thoughts but a large insolated cup being shoved under my nose interrupted my lovely homicidal funk. I blinked at it, noting the tiny shinigamis and angels dancing cross the black surface then raised my gaze to look into the broadly grinning face of K. I blinked and gave him a scowl.   
  
"Take it," he said, grinning insanely and thrusting it into my hands. I took the cup gingerly, hissing at the heat I could feel spreading through it and taking a sniff at the steam curling from the opening at the top.   
  
The heady burnt bean smell immediately caught my attention. Nothing in the world was like American coffee- - not the stuff found in gourmet coffee shops where coffee is carefully ground and brewed, but honest, home brewed coffee from either a coffee machine or from a percolator. K grew up on the stuff, and as he went from the CIA to managing musicians, what little taste buds he had for the stuff had been completely ruined. Office coffee tended to be that kind of stuff that had been perking for several hours with twice the amount of grounds needed for the amount of water in the pot. And boiled stuff too, not seeped like it should be.   
  
I've had good coffee; the beans freshly grounded, set into a strainer and having boiled water poured gently over it then mixed with fresh sweetened cream. But after three years of American coffee, especially K's type of American coffee and the terrible tar-like substance that circulated my American label's office, I was addicted to it. Taking a small sip, the strong bitter brew caused my toes to curl in my shoes and relax those nerves that were starting to clamor for caffeine.   
  
"Mm, I needed that, K," I told him with a grin, taking another savoring sip of the black brew.   
  
"I thought you might," he replied, making a 'v' sign then slinging an arm over my shoulders, directed me to the elevators. Wrapped up in my caffeine-loving haven, I actually let him lead the way to the car without protest that six flights of stairs were good exercise. I didn't even protest that he was driving us there again. The entire ride there, I sipped at the brunt sludge and sighed happy sighs of complete enjoyment. Okay, so I was addicted, but there were worse things to be addicted to in the world.   
  
It didn't seem like it took any time at all to get from my place to NG Studios. I blinked the sudden arrival of the building and wondered if it moved or if K had put a warp drive into his van. Since it didn't feel like I've been warped, I figured that the building had moved. Carefully leaving the car so not to spill my precious drink, I went inside barely listening to K talking about what I had left to work on. I nodded in the right places, took the elevator up to the studio I was working in and did not protest when K left to talk to Touma. I settled into a chair at the studio and waved at my two helpers then asked them to play back what was recorded from before.   
  
Maybe it was the coffee or maybe it was because Touma said that Nittle Grasper can get back together again, but I had an idea for those three tracks. The first song, a slow throbbing base with a darkly seductive guitar that wails then sighs softly, was a good background for a song about seduction and death. Giving it one listen through to make sure of the beat and the rhythm, I started to sing.   
  
_In the darkness   
I'm stalking my prey   
In the darkness   
When light fades away   
  
Do you love me?   
Hunter to prey   
Do you know me?   
You're my prey_   
  
Several more verses followed all of it a song about a killer who made his victims love him before he killed them. The next song was a happy, cheerful beat surrounded by screaming guitars and excited keyboards. The perfect background for something about love and having problems to find it in the world today. Another sip of coffee, and I was singing the lyrics inside my head, dancing in the studio as the music surrounded me and blended with my voice.   
  
The last song was slow and sad, the guitars wailing and the keyboard twisting. Listening to it for a while, I thought of ghosts of the past, of how things never stay the way one wanted them to. The words that escaped my lips echoed inside my skull, talking about hope lost, love lost, despair found and lost of the life inside one's soul. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was aware that the two technicians with me were gapping at me like I grew an extra set of eyes. It was one of those songs that caused me to shudder and I knew that it would do well in America just because of the haunting words.   
  
Being rough tracks, we did have to go over them again, with me singing over again to make sure that everything fitted right. We didn't break until well after one when my stomach started to growl loud enough to be heard outside the studio. Everyone agreed that it as time to take a break anywise, so we all headed for food. I went to the vending machines, trying to decide what to buy to eat on when several people rushed down the hall and past me. I blinked and scratched my head.   
  
Another group of people ran by, talking excitedly but not acting like people who herd that the building was on fire, risking being drowned or was under attack by a giant monster. Since the alarms haven't gone off for the flood or monster attack and no one was really screaming about the end of the world, I blinked puzzled at them and tried to flag down the next bunch of running people with a hand. A technician stopped long enough to say that something exciting was happening in the one studio before running off. Food forgotten, I decided to follow them.   
  
Down the stairs and around a corner, a man's head poked out of an office and asked me what was going on. Pausing in mid-jog, I answered him in a child's voice before taking off, the man's shoes making squeaking sounds as he followed me. I wondered how his shoes could get so wet inside an office but the thought fled when we hit the crowd around the big airy studio on the second floor. We easily got through the crowd at the door and made our way to the front to see that guitar player for Bad Luck- - Hiro I think, and a kid that was vaguely familiar playing a remix of that song from the other day.   
  
It was good. No, better than good, it was excellent. The minor discords and vague jumbling notes were straighten out and the track played far smoother than the track in Zipp Tokyo. No one ever sounds their best on a stage; after all, one has the screaming moving fans, the ceiling, the air conditioning or lack of it, and a hundred other things that can make one sound gritty. But I had been performing longer than Shuuichi has been alive. I have the ear as well as the voice and could tell that this track was far superior to his despite the studio conditions.   
  
Poor Shuuichi. He must have never thought that he could make so many glaring mistakes.   
  
The last notes trailed off and the young kid- - oh I remember him now, Touma's little cousin Suguru Fujisaki- - popped out of the booth to tell Shuuichi that he would make another arrangement for when they put the lyrics in. Shuuichi looked lost confused, excusing himself for the bathroom. I wasn't sure if anyone else noticed it, but he looked crushed, completely without the energy that made him himself. I wanted to talk to him, to tell him that Suguru would only make his music stronger but he did not even stop when I said his name.   
  
Poor, poor Shuuichi.   
  
After that, I dragged myself from the studio and through the halls until I found myself in Touma's office. Sniffing loudly, I threw myself onto the floor and pulled out Kumagorou to hug close. The conversation around me fell silent and I could feel two pairs of eyes staring at me.   
  
"Poor, poor Shuuichi," I muttered into pink fuzz.   
  
"Ryuuichi, what's wrong? Did something happen?" Touma's voice was soft with concern.   
  
"You better not be skipping practice again," K growled, the familiar click of a gun being slid free of his holster echoing his words.   
  
"K-san, there is no need for that," Touma sighed then his face came into view, long keyboarder's hands prying Kumagorou from my face. "What's wrong, Ryuu?"   
  
"Shuuichi didn't know about his arrangements," I whimpered, clutching Touma since he had Kumagorou and there was no one else to cling to. He didn't pull away, instead returned the hug.   
  
"It will be just fine, Ryuu. He'll get over it, I am sure," Touma replied softly, running fingers through my hair and causing me to purr. "Eiri-san will help him understand what I am trying to do."   
  
I blinked and pulled away, eyeing Touma. "Eiri. . . Touma, what. . .?"   
  
He hushed me with a smile and handing me back Kumagorou. "Don't worry about it, Ryuuichi. He is an interesting person isn't he? And I am sure Eiri-san knows what he is doing with Shindo-san. You still have those tracks to finish, don't you? Why don't you go back to work and we'll talk about it later, okay?"   
  
Mutely I nodded. Yuki Eiri, Mika's brother, and the other keeper of the secret that brought on Touma's stranger face. His secret that I know of too, having learnt of it from Touma when the keyboardist was too drunk and too hurting to keep it bottled up inside. He knew I knew about it, but I don't know if anyone else knew of what happened six years ago.   
  
I took Kumagorou back and nodded again, even though no one said anything to me. Then I headed back out to finish those three tracks and to think.   
  
Poor, poor Shuuichi. Eiri clung to his ghosts and it would take someone really special for him to let them go.   
  



	9. track seven

_Warnings and disclaimers same as in the Prologue. Nothing has changed much from that one to this one. Ryuuichi POV. Some mentions of ep. eight of the anime and some more randomness from characters.  
**AN:** The lyrics in this part come from the song 'Sleepless Beauty' by Nittle Grasper. They have just been translated from the Japanese to English for this purpose. I have also made it so that they just came up with the song instead of it being a mainstay of the group from years ago. It made a bit more sense to me that they would use a new song to annouce themselves back into things. _   
  
**~*~*~*~*~*~**  
  
**= Track Seven =**  
  
As recording goes, once I put down my lyrics the rest is easy. Of course, getting me to actually sing those lyrics took a bit of while. That genius that the press harps about is not really a genius but some sort of strange thinking process that could see words in life, could hear music in chaos, can take the two and weave them into a whole. I was either lucky or unlucky to have such a talent since a young age, when music was better than even early morning cartoons or chocolate pocky.   
  
I've found in Touma and slightly in Noriko, people who also had that genius. Their talents ran a bit different than mine; Noriko can harmonize anything, Touma can build a song from an idea. Together, our talents made up Nittle Grasper.   
  
I am not saying that we were the best and no one else could come close. No, that's what the press and the publicists like to say. There are other bands that have the same sort of talents all arranged in their perfect spots. There are other bands out there that are like us in determination and stubbornness and talent. But, it takes a rare band that can pick up from where they left off after being years apart.   
  
Noriko looked just as beautiful as I last remembered her. She had got her hair trimmed shorter and there were a few laugh lines around her eyes, but she was still youthful and full of spirit. When I walked into the blues bar, she squealed with delight, tackled me in a strong hug, and lifted me off my feet.   
  
"Ryuuichi! When did you get back, you evil little man you? You should have called me!"   
  
I laughed and hugged her back. "I was busy. K wouldn't let me do -anything- until I got his stupid tracks done. How have you been?"   
  
Noriko laughed and put me down, telling me all about her professor husband and their two children and all the problems of being a mother who is famous and trying to raise her children to be normal. As she talked, I looked around the bar, remembering how we used to sit in that corner booth, piles of note paper and empty bottles all around us and make our songs. Or how in that spot, we had started an impromptu jam session, Noriko pounding on drums, Touma at the piano and me singing old favorites by Leadbelly, Flatt and Scrubs, Zeppelin. This bar was so much a part of how we got where we did that one of the things we did when we had enough was to buy the place, becoming the owners of a place that will always be both a safe haven and a place where we can talk without being overheard by the wrong people.   
  
We took a seat at the bar and ordered our usual drinks. The bar tender smiled in warm welcome to me and also poured Kumagorou a drink as well without me asking. I had to grin at that, since in America most people looked at me funny when I asked for a drink for Kumagorou. Noriko shook her head at me, smiling softly and taking a sip of her drink.   
  
"So, how was America? Was it just as bad as Touma always acts like it is?"   
  
"Nah, I enjoyed it. They have a lot of stuff there, and even their pizza is better than it is here though I really liked their ice cream more," I paused to lick my lips remembering all the yummy flavors and got poked in the arm by Noriko.   
  
"What about the men? Are they really that hot?"   
  
"Noriko!"   
  
She laughed, draping an arm over my shoulder and leaning close. "I bet you had stars even," she whispered.   
  
I turned a bright red and smacked her lightly on top of her head with Kumagorou. She laughed some more and settled back on her stool, taking another sip of her drink. Muttering to myself that everyone is evil to poor little innocent me, I gulped down my drink, set Kumagorou on the bar and gulped his drink down too. The tender poured me another drink then the bells over the door chimed mutely.   
  
I looked over towards the door, frowning faintly as Touma came in and slid into the stool next to me. Besides us and the tender, no one else was in the bar, which was a good thing. This was not something that everyone in the world needed to find out about. At least not until we were ready to tell everyone about it.   
  
"Sorry I'm late," Touma said, smiling as the tender put his drink in front of him.   
  
"So you are late, Touma-kun," Noriko tease over my shoulder, smiling at Touma.   
  
"You're very late! Kumagorou is even mad at you!" I said, waving the pink bunny over my head as if I meant to smack him with it.   
  
"I am sorry. I had to work late."   
  
"That's okay, Touma," Noriko said from the other side of me. "You're sure busy as the president of your own company."   
  
"Are you okay with this, Noriko? I didn't want to disturb your retirement."   
  
I glanced over at Noriko, and blinked as she took out one of her homemade biscuits. I blinked again and sniffled, pulling arms down and watching as she kissed the sugary treat.   
  
"It's fine. It's not the first time Ryuu-chan has been selfish like this."   
  
I gnawed on Kumagorou's head, eyes gone all chibi and watering at Noriko. "That's mean! Do you hate me, Noriko-chan?"   
  
She smiled and gave me the biscuit. "There is no way that I could hate you. That's why I came."   
  
"So it's okay?"   
  
"Of course. It looks interesting."   
  
Mouth full of delicious biscuit, I added, "Of course it is goning to be interesting! There's a fun guy there too!"   
  
Touma chuckled softly to himself. "That person seems to have the power to affect all kinds of people."   
  
Noriko frowned at us both, putting her drink down. "Wait a minute, who are you two talking about?"   
  
"You'll meet him soon enough, Noriko." Touma looked at the bartop, a smile masking his expression as he repeated himself. "Soon."   
  
I finished savoring my treat and took a big swallow of my drink, jumping up and down on my stool. Noriko leaned over and tugged on a lock of my hair, getting me to calm down and put Kumagorou on the polished bar before looking over my head at Touma.   
  
"So, what are we going to do now?"   
  
"Write songs!" I crowed and looked over at Touma. The blonde nodded, picking up his drink and heading for a back booth. I picked up Kumagorou and my drink bouncing after him and heard Noriko laughing again as she followed me. I couldn't help being excited. I missed Nittle Grasper and missed sitting in the back booth bent over paper with drinks at our elbows and songs in our heads.   
  
Touma and I sat opposite each other while Noriko sat next to me. Kumagorou sat next to Touma and became the resting place for Touma's hat. Taking out my notebook and getting pens from the tender, we bent over the book jolting ideas and talking, trading paper, notebook and pens as the whim struck us. It felt so good being back there. Like a homecoming I never thought I would ever have. These two people were my family more than anything I ever had.   
  
Nibbling on a piece of pocky from the crumpled box in my pocket, I doodled that song I sang five days ago on a napkin and showed it to Noriko. Both her eyebrows rose and she gave me a puzzled look as I hummed the tune then glanced at Touma. Touma frowned, took a sip of his whiskey sour and tapped out the beat then shook his head.   
  
"Too slow," he said.   
  
"Then speed it up," I replied with a shrug.   
  
"Hm, it might work. . . " Noriko added, tapping a second beat over the one Touma was pounding out.   
  
"Ryuuichi, do you have the lyrics worked out?"   
  
"In English," I replied with a smirk, leaning back against the soft leather bench. Touma frowned as I sang it softly, my voice echoing with help of the high enclosing booth.   
  
_"Letting the eye shine from far away,   
waiting for the awakening people   
Night's rampart is called out   
by the crowd that sheds its complacency   
  
(There's no way out) If you mean to endure the shock   
(Until you collapse) confusing a lie   
  
You! Who can be born again,   
don't smile by yourself and color your eye   
Even if the world we wished for is suddenly   
reduced to ashes, we can still find a miracle   
  
(softly embrace me as I break down)   
  
Losing the purity we had,   
like petals scattering from a flower   
Beginning to perceive cracks   
in the polished jewel in your hand   
  
(The chilly hand) gathers the shed thorns (The doused fire) continues to smolder   
  
Even now, where the light is that we couldn't reach,   
it dances vividly, sketching emotions   
As if they'll never end, guiding words are overflowing;   
don't be afraid of changing times   
  
(cry for an exit) (as it caves in)   
  
You! Who were born again,   
don't smile by yourself and color your eye   
Even if the world we wished for is suddenly   
reduced to ashes, we can still find a miracle   
  
Where the light is that we couldn't reach,   
it dances vividly, sketching emotions   
As if they'll never end, guiding words are overflowing;   
don't be afraid of changing times   
  
(softly embrace me, always hold me,   
more, until my heart breaks down)"_   
  
Touma clicked his tongue. "You had spent too much time in America. . . Okay, it needs a lot of work but it could work. . . Noriko, what do you think?"   
  
She frowned at me then smiled, fondly ruffling my hair and dodging my flailing hands. "I like it and Ryuu-chan is right. All we need to do is speed the beat up, fix the lyrics and we will have our first single."   
  
I fixed my hair and pfted her, finishing off my drink and looking over at Touma. He looked a little tired. Well, we all looked a little tired. As I had thought before, it sucked getting old like we were. We just could not stay up all hours of the day and night and expect to spring back like rubber. Making a big show of stretching in my seat, I reached over to grab Kumagorou from his seat.   
  
"It has been a really long day, na no da." I said, getting up. "So I'm going to go home to sleep the rest of the night away. Are we going to use your private studio for working out the music?"   
  
Touma pursed his lips in thought then nodded. "Mika-san will not tell anyone if she is even there to see us. And I don't think it will be safe to practcie in N-G Studios right now, with everything that is happening. So I'll have the studio up and ready for. . . Tomorrow afternoon? That is the earliest I can make it."   
  
"Sounds good Touma-chan," Noriko said getting up from her seat and ruffling her hair back into place. "That will give me enough time to make sure the kids have a babysitter and have enough time to finish my chores."   
  
She made a face and laughed, waving a hand at us as she walked away, hips swaying in time to an inner beat. I smiled fondly at her back then glanced over at Touma who looked even more tired than I thought he could. I scrunched up my nose and leaned over to touch his cheek. A slender hand rose and caught my wrist before I even got close.   
  
"Ryuuichi, I'm tired."   
  
"Are you sure you are all right?" I frowned at him.   
  
"I'm fine," he said, smiling his stranger's smile. I frowned and shook my head, and he sighed. "Just tired, Ryuuichi. Nothing more."   
  
I freed my hand from his grip and moved over to his side of the booth, snuggling close to him and offering a friendly hug. For a moment, he relaxed against me then he pulled away, looking down at the table with it's litter of napkins and paper and glasses.   
  
"Touma. . .?" I asked, softly.   
  
"Just hold me?"   
  
Nodding, I pulled him into a hug again, holding him close and feeling his heart throb against my chest, smelling his scent wash over me and wishing that that summer so long ago never ever happened.   
  



	10. track eight

Warnings & Disclaimers: Same as before, but with some very faint spoilers for ep. 7 of the anime. I know that the last chapter has spoilers from ep. 8 but I am spacing out the time between meeting in the bar to announcing their album release to a more realistic timeline.  
_**A.N. :** Sorry for the extremely long delay in getting this chapter out. I was having some serious issues about which direction I wanted to go with it, but after a lot of rewriting, I am only slightly satisfied with it. I may work on it later, but right now it feels like a good start. I am also having some problems with the new uploading system they have at FFnet here. Which is why the first time I tried uploading this piece, it looked like monkey babble._

**---------------**

**- track eight -**

I was dragged out of bed way too early and packed into K's car before I could even squeak a question. My soon-to-be ex-manager drove like a manic through the really early morning traffic and had me out of the car and into N-G before the sun even thought about rising over the city. I was too tired to complain, hiding my eyes behind my glasses and muffling yawns in Kumagorou's soft fur as I stumbled behind K's wake. For the most part, the rest of the building was empty save for a couple of janitors mopping a stretch of the floor, and a few people who never seem to do anything but work and whine when they are not working. I yawned again, and hoped that there was a bed where we were going. I needed to catch up on my beauty sleep.

He opened a door to one of the conference rooms, reached over, grabbed me by the arm, and dragged me into the room after him. I batted at his hand with Kumagorou, and then blinked at all the stuff set up about the place. There was a tray with a big carafe and sweet rolls, a mike, a TV camera and a big screen TV. People crawled around the equipment, pausing to call out 'good mornings' before going back to work. I blinked at them then glared at K.

"You should have told me this was a meeting," I said, stamping a foot.

"It's not my fault you weren't listening to me while you were getting dressed," K replied, handing me a cup of steaming coffee and giving me a slap on the back. "Now, let's show your American label what we've got!"

I stuck my tongue out at K and flopped into a seat, sipping at the too hot coffee and yawning. I wanted to be back in bed, having spent a great deal of the night before just talking with Touma about what-ifs. Well, I was talking; he was giving me his stranger's smile in between yawns and arranging lines of music in his notebook. After I started to repeat myself and he started falling asleep, we had called it a night.

I wanted to puzzle over Touma's behavior, but oh, no, Mr. Gun-Toting-American-Soon-To-Be-Ex-Manager had to drag me out of bed and halfway across the world to do a satellite feed meeting to my American producers over who knows what at such an evil hour. I took another sip of coffee and pouted at the pink rabbit sitting in front of me. The moment K left my services, I was going to change my locks. Not that it would stop him, but at least I would feel like it would stop him. Nodding to myself, I gave an 'eep' of surprised as some woman assaulted my face with powder and blush and lipstick. I attempted to wave her off, then used Kumagorou as a shield to get her to back off.

"Hey! Who do you think I am? Gackt? That's enough make up!" I coughed and add a line about evil make up people onto my mutterings about evil soon-to-be-ex-managers.

She gave me a look and moved on to powder someone else's face. I gave K a glare and crossed my arms over my chest. Meanwhile, the American looked completely unconcerned, making sure we were all in some magical positions to the rest of the room and that the lights were hitting us just right before nodding at the rest of the camera crew. There were some flashed from cameras then the TV and the movie camera went live.

I tucked Kumagorou away under the table and flashed a grin as the picture on the screen came onto focus. My two American producers smiled back, one unsuccessfully hiding a yawn. I leaned back, letting go of the child-like antics and got down to business.

It took a while to iron everything out with them, the sun coming into full glory while we worked on the contract for the songs, my ending contract and an offer for renewal, hashing over which song to put on the airwaves first, and whether I was willing to do a tour. I answered honestly and to the point, explaining my less-then-enthusiastic response to the idea of a tour by claiming time off. I also told them that I wanted to give the whole music scene a miss and did not renew the contract, though I know K phrased it better then I did.

I never did have a head for business.

But music that I had the head for. K coaxed me into singing a few lines from the haunted song and I could tell that the producers were interested in it. More then interested if they way they came to attention was anyway I could judge their reactions. And if they reacted, maybe the rest of the world would too, although I know that I won't let myself get dragged to America anytime soon. I had Nittle Grasper to work on now.

The interview completed about the same time that I usually liked getting up at – ten in the morning. I was not about to even guess what time it was back in L.A. but my two producers looked like they were ready to fall asleep in their chairs. I bid them a good night and had the crew cut the feed before I yawned wide enough to break my jaw and let my head fall onto the table.

"Can I go back to sleep now?" I said, practically whining into my hands as I tried to block out the sunlight.

I heard K snicker, and I raised my head high enough to give the blond a glare. What was with all the blonds in my life? They were out to get me; I swear they were, with their high and mighty attitudes and silly little ways.

"You could, but you'll be more comfortable on the sleeper couch in Touma's room," he replied.

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Not with his hyper dizzy assistants and his phone calls and his giving fuzzy glares of death at the fax machines and his demands of not drooling over the leather. . ."

"Fuzzy glares of death?" K repeated in that tone of voice that says he couldn't believe what he was hearing, while giving me a look that screamed that he thought that I was crazy. "Ryuuichi. . ."

"You know –" I tried to mimic Touma's fuzzy glare of death. "That look."

K laughed and gave my hair a ruffle. "You can sleep through a hurricane if you wanted to, so off to his office you go!"

Straightening my hair the best I could, I stuck my nose in the air and went waltzing out of the room and headed for Touma's office. I got lost between the candy machine and the Men's room and ended up in a nice shady spot over looking the open lounge in the center of the building. There were trees and a few fancy chairs to look at, though I was more interested in the nice big soft comfy couch I found right near a quiet corner.

Of course, just as I was settling in a nice comfortable position and I was nearly asleep, a very loud voice had to wake me up. I rolled off the couch with a muffled yelp and peered over the side to see who was yelling so loudly so early in the morning. When I spotted the pink hair, I shook my head and decided to sleep on the floor, grabbing a cushion for a pillow.

Another yell and I peered back below to see Shuuichi hold out a dress to K and Sakano. I blinked, shook my head and went back to try to nap. I did not want to know. I seriously did not want to know. Pulling another cushion off the couch, I used it to cover my ears. I knew I had a voice that can carry easily over a crowded room, but I wasn't so inconsiderate to yell around people that were trying to sleep. He probably never saw me, but that still gave him any right to be yelling.

My brief moment of silence between the cushions was cut short when my upper cushion was pulled away from me. Glaring through staticy hair at Evil Blond Number One – other wise called Touma – I hefted Kumagorou in promise of a Kuma-beam. The blond sis not even blink at me, settling the cushion into it's spot and taking a seat, crossing his leg and placing his gloved hands in his lap. Clear blue eyes, far too clear for a fluffy evil like him, watched me, a smile curving his small pink lips. After several minutes of this torture, I sighed and got up from the floor, tossed the cushion onto the couch and sat down next to him.

"Shuuichi," he said, glancing down at the floor below us. "is having a difficult time right now."

"Shuuichi shouldn't be waving around his kink in front of K," I replied, imparting my experiences from all the years of being under the control of Evil Blond Number Two.

"Are you sure that's his kink?"

"What else would it be?" I eyed Touma and huffed, crossing my arms at his mysterious smile. "Touma. . ."

"Did you ever have any doubts about your sexual identity, Ryuuichi?"

"No, why would I? I knew what I wanted and I never gave it another thought."

He glanced at me from the corners of his eyes, pink lips pressed firmly together before he went back to watching the floor below. I smirked at him, enjoying the stiff way he held his shoulders and the tightening of his hands on his knee. I plucked at the feathered collar of his coat, giving him a gentle smile as he turned to look at me fully.

"It never was an issue that I concerned myself with while growing up," I continued, placing Kumagorou on top of my head. "Beauty is beauty no matter what sex the beautiful person has."

"Besides, for you, not even another person can hold a candle to what your –real-passion is," he said, sighing softly. "You live music, Ryuuichi. You breathe it, speak it, live it, are it. Everything else is just superficial compared to music."

I bit my lower lip, not denying his statement. "And you are a poisonous rose, untouchable, secretive, dangerous despite your beauty. We've both been over this before, Touma."

He nodded. "But Shuuichi hasn't begun to contemplate what his relationship with Yuki would do to both of them. Especially since Yuki has had more women then his brother and father combined and Shuuichi had never dated before."

"Any relationship is difficult in the first stages of life. Let them work it out themselves and try not to get involved, Touma. Yuki can make his own decisions on – "

A slamming door cut off my thoughts before I could get them out of my mouth. Frowning, I craned my neck to see what was going on and saw the man in questions walking hurriedly towards the exit, hands in pockets and smoking like a furnace. Behind him, yelling something about stopping for beautiful women was Shuuichi in a schoolgirl's uniform. I raised both eyebrows and gave Touma a dirty look. Crossing my arms, I flopped back into the couch and stared up at the ceiling.

After a few moments, the blond reached over and patted my shoulder, his voice sounding far too evil and fluffy for his own good, "Some people are not ready for dating people on beauty alone."

"Oh stop rubbing it in," I said, sulking as I brushed his hand off my shoulder. "Can we go to the studio and work on the album now?"

"I'm done here, so I don't mind if we go now. Maybe we can get a head start on other songs for it while we wait for Noriko to show up."

I stretched out, nodded and got up. After a moment, he got up as well and lead the way down the stairs and to his car. A few moments later, we were on our way.


	11. track nine

_A.N.: Nothing has change from the last chapter to this one. Warnings and disclaimers are still the same. I must apologize to everyone that has been reading this story for the long delay between this chapter and the last one. I was trying for something a little less technical and the like but unfortunately, I still had to get into the aspects of song making a bit more. I have also found myself in possession of the manga and have been arguing with my muse about the situations in the manga and what I knew when I first start this fiction years ago. And yes, it has been three years when I first started uploading this one and to satisfy the curious, the fiction was started as a one-shot. It was suppose to be just a piece from the prospective of Ryuuichi as a personal thoughts sort of thing but it went far **far** beyond that idea. _

_I do realize that the way I spell the names are a bit off from what is now considered the proper spelling as given by the offical translated version of the manga - however, I shall keep with the spelling that I have been using as both me being far too lazy to go through and change it all (as in, changing it on the fanfiction sites this is on), and because these names are comfortable to me. I've RPed these chars with these names, I've written a lot with these names so I am keeping these names. Heh, yeah, I am silly._

_I am glad that a few people are still reading this and I hope no one gives up on me. I am looking to finish this in maybe another year - heh, cross your fingers - and maybe there will be a happy ending, right? We can only hope so._

**- - track nine - -**

I flopped into one of Touma's fluffy studio chairs and sucked on my water bottle. Noriko sat more gracefully into the chair next to me, fanning herself with a handful of sheet music. Touma straddled the swivel chair, shaking his head at the two of us.

"You two can't be giving up already?" he asked, folding his arms over the back of his chair and resting his chin on his arms. "It's only been an all night idea session. Wait until we have to do live shows after a concert and interviews."

"Jam session," I replied, taking a moment from sucking water. I felt the need to correct him.

Touma gave me one of his lesser fluffy glares of death and I gave him a sweet innocent smile. Noriko took the opening I gave her to steal my water bottle and finishing off the water. I growled, bapped her on the head with Kumagorou, getting poked in the ribs in return.

"Are you two quite done fooling around?" Touma asked, his voice getting the polite bored tones of one reaching the end of his patience.

It has been a long couple of weeks filled with jam sessions, arguments and friendly banter. The three of us had changed a lot musically and mentally, and while we were able to startup from where we stopped, there were some major differences between us. I had changed the most, the rhythm and music of America still influencing me. Touma was more into classically inspired melodies and harmonies built up into impressive cathedrals of sounds. Noriko had been spending a lot of time with her two children and it reflected in her simple and childish harmonies. The three of use were having problems trying to find a middle ground that would work and not take away what we really love.

"Maybe we're trying too hard," Noriko said after a moment of fluffing her hair. "We should just let it all go and just play."

"Maybe we are," I replied, sticking Kumagorou on top of my head and taking out a pack of pocky. I stuck one in my mouth and looked up at the studio's ceiling. It was some kind of soundproofed stuff painted a dark blue and I though about sneaking into the room one night and painting stars on it to make it look like the night sky. "Our styles just needs to be glued together better so maybe we should jam some more."

"It would help the process a little if you would write your lyrics in Japanese," Noriko said, snagging a piece of pocky from my box for herself. "English was never one of my best subjects in school and I have no idea what your scribbles are suppose to mean or say or anything really."

I hid my box behind Kumagorou to keep anyone else from stealing my pocky and gave her a full-blown pout, complete with puppy eyes and wobbly lips. She ignored it as she waved several badly written lyric sheets in my face.

"You even smear some of these with mustard," she said in her best mothering tone of voice.

"But. . ." I whined, grabbing my precious lyric sheets and hugging them close. "I worked so long and so hard on them. . ."

"Can we just get on with it?" Touma said, interrupting our bit of drama. He rubbed his forehead and flicked his hair back from his eyes. "I have a meeting in two hours."

"You are so busy, Touma," Noriko said, frowning. "Are you sure this is okay?"

He smiled that soft smile of his; the one that was not forced or controlling. "Oh yes. I want to do this. I miss this."

I fiddled with my lyric sheets then jumped up from my chair and waved them over my head. "Let's do this, na no da!"

Noriko and Touma exchanged glances while I charged the sound proof room and tackled a mic stand. After a few moments, they joined me and we started up again with the song that would be the first release from our new album if we ever get it done. Five seconds into it, I waved them to stop with the keyboards and was surprised that they actually did so.

"It still isn't right," I said, chewing on Kumagorou's ear.

"Now what is wrong?" Noriko growled, her hands going to her hips.

I gulped and tried to look as cute and as innocent as a stuffed toy. She raised an eyebrow and tapped her foot. I gulped, looked at Touma – who looked suddenly interested in his notes – then looked back at Noriko. My smile felt all alone on my face as I tried to face down her scowl.

"A guitar introduction," I stated. "Four-four time, something strong and distorted for a couple of bars, then bring in the cymbals and drums for a couple of bars then keyboard." I thought about it for a moment and nodded. "That's how it should sound. We don't want to sound like a cover of ourselves. We want them to wake up and hear us."

Touma looked at me strangely as Noriko tried a few guitar riffs. I ignored him as I listened to the music in my head, nodding when she found the right guitar. I tapped out the beat, and she played it – hard, abrupt for the first bar, sharp and short for the second bar - then cymbals over the guitars, then came the keyboards, her simple harmony layering over Touma's melody that he built over the guitars. Twenty-two bars in, I started singing.

"Tooku de me o hikarasete mezameru monotachi matte iru. Yoru no jouheki sasowarete utsurisumu mure no nukegara ni."

Then the whole thing fell apart again as the guitar went off onto a tangent and Touma decided to add an organ. I banged my head against the mic stand and sighed. There was a giggle and someone – I deduced it was Noriko – bounced an empty pocky box off my head. I let out a whine and tried a dramatic pose of a 'Hero Slain On The Battlefield' variety. After waiting for the award, I unposed and stuck my tongue out at them.

"Fine brat," Touma said, cracking his knuckles and wiggling his fingers. "We'll arrange this song your way but after this, leave the arrangements to Noriko and I, hm?"

"Fine," I replied, bouncing on my feet. "Let's get it done, na no da!"

Ten minutes later, it was done, sitting with its tiny unassuming data stuck inside a digital reel. In celebration, I bounced Kumagorou off a couple of heads and then went in search of more pocky and water. Luckily the last bit was easy to find: Touma's cupboards held some pocky of the variety that I like and the fridge yielded some more bottled water. I hopped back to the studio full of vigor, only to be faced with a pen and my sketchbook. I blinked at them and looked over them at Touma.

"Na no?"

"No time to celebrate now," the evil blonde number one said, shoving them into my hands. "You have to finish the lyrics for the next nine songs. Unless, you just want to come out with a greatest hits album with one bonus new track?" I squeaked, trying to balance pen, sketchbook, Kumagorou, pocky and bottled water all at the same time. He smiled, patted me on the head and retrieved his feathery coat with all the black feathers. "Don't take too long, Ryuuichi; I have no idea how long I can keep this quiet."

With that warning, he was gone, leaving me alone with Noriko and my sketchbook. I tried my best woobly eyed chibi stare on her but she completely ignored me in favour of calling her ancient husband the professor and food critic. Sniffling to myself, I went to sulk in a corner, covering my head with Kumagorou as I struggled with kanji or whatever it was called.

Finishing this album was going to take forever.


	12. track ten

_A.N.: Nothing has change from the last chapter to this one. Warnings and disclaimers are still the same. Spoilers from ep eight of the anime are still in effect. sigh I swear I will get away from that ep soon, I promise. Maybe in the chapter after the next one, I hope._

**- track ten -**

I was wrong of course. It took two more weeks of long nights, boxes of pocky by ton and several good-natured fighting to finish the album. It was raw – far rawer than what we had ever produced ever since we hit big times – but it was still us. It was still Nittle Grasper and it had some serious bite. Touma took the tracks into a professional studio and with his mad producer skills cleared up the noise. Then a snap of his fingers later, everything was ready and he was making the announcement.

Well, I say snap even though there were a few things that got in between the recording and the finished product. Like ASK and Shindou and Eiri. Touma was being his nosey self and poking and prodding into Eiri's life which ended up with one man nearly ran over by a mysterious car – of which I cannot say more if I wanted to stay on Touma's fluffy side – and a couple restored to their rather unique balance.

Or something of that nature.

So, there we were, sitting in the junk food area of NG waiting to hear more from Touma concerning our announcement and listening to Bad Luck in the other room. Noriko was frowning, her chin in her hands and her elbows on the table, and I was across from her drawing in my sketchbook. Bad Luck's voices were so loud that they were drowning out the quiet commentaries on the TV screen.

"Who is that?" Noriko asked, her eyes narrowing at the loud booming voice that was drowning out even Shuuichi.

I raised my head from a rather fetching drawing of a dinosaur eating a Glock and nibbled reflectively on Kumagorou's ear. "Oh that's Evil Blonde Number Two."

She gave me a look. "Ryuuichi. . . ."

I smiled and went back drawing scales on my dinosaur. "I mean K. He's an evil blonde and waves these guns about and does all sorts of neat and crazy things."

"Really? Hm, I've been wanting to talking to him."

I looked up at the tone of her voice and blinked a couple of times. She looked pretty innocent sitting in her chair and fluffing up her pigtails. I blinked, put away my sketchbook and crayons and picked up Kumagorou, threatening her with a Kuma-beam. She laughed, got up from her chair and went towards the other room. After a moment of hard thought – K and his favourite gun Betty Lou might be waiting on the other side of the wall – then went after Noriko.

I caught her and K right in the middle of a discussion about why Touma got involved. K of course called Touma a coward but I felt the need to correct him. It seems I was doing a lot of correcting lately; maybe I could have gone into business as the answers man or something. It may be better than being a lead singer underneath Touma's evil fluffy thumb.

"It's not Touma's fault. I asked him to do me a favour as President," I said, stepping into the brawl with Kumagorou in my arms.

K leaned forward and placed his hands on my shoulders and I braced myself for a shaking – not that K would do that at all to me. "In other words, you'd be the villain that pulled Touma into this treachery."

I nodded with a grin then blinked in confuzzlement as Noriko pushed K away.

"Hey! Don't touch Ryuuichi in such a friendly fashion!"

"What? But I'm Ryuuichi's former manager!"

"Right, former. Don't make me remind you," Noriko continued, clenching her hands into fists. "Three years ago you deceived Ryuu-chan and snatched him away to America." Her voice started getting wobbly and I expected tears any second. "And now you want to carry over the deal with this young boy, rejecting him. It's so sad, Ryuu-chan!"

She threw her arms around me, weeping and carrying on. I blinked, looked at K and asked, "Is it really sad?"

K looked like he was growing fangs and horns with his come back of, "Don't say such disrespectful things!"

Noriko stopped crying at once, looked up and probably even smiled as she replied, "Just kidding! Anyways, let's be nice from now on."

I then decided that Noriko was going to become Evil Nearly Blonde Number Three. She was not as bad as Touma, or K, but she was up there on my list of 'People that Seriously Will Give My Day Gray Skies If I Let Them.' Hm, one of these days, I was going to have to get a new name for that list.

"Now matter what, I wanted to sing with Shuuichi again. I'm glad," I said, ignoring the dramatics carrying on next to my eardrum. I even gave Shuuichi a one handed handshake – you know, holding the hand out and squeezing it like there's another hand there. That of course, brought a lot of confused looks from everyone but K and Noriko. Oh well, at least Shuuichi copied my handshake even though he looked completely lost.

"Enough with the friendly chit-chat!" Noriko said, smiling brightly and getting a firm grip on my arm. I eyed her and erked as she tugged me back towards our seats on the other side of the partition. "We've got a lot of work to do. Have a nice day!"

I yelped as I was pulled off my feet at that and whisked around the corner. Flailing wildly with Kumagorou, I managed to break free even as Noriko's smile turned to a scowl. She put her hands on her hips, blowing some hair from her face then spun to face me, her finger jabbing into my chest. I squeaked and batted at her hand.

"How could you have gone off with him of all people? I thought you had better sense than that, Ryuu-chan!"

"But. . . ."

"No buts! Oh I am so mad at you, abandoning us like that!"

"Touma. . . ."

"Don't you even start talking about him either!" Her finger was back poking at my chest. "You left us and went off with that American. Didn't you think? He could have been a kidnapper or something! And what is with that gun? Isn't it illegal to be carrying one around?"

I shoved Kumagorou into her face and ran off, heading for Touma's office. He might be still fielding off questions but at least I can sulk properly on his leather couch while raiding his private fridge for snacks. And Noriko would calm down by the time she would find the office and we can discuss my reasons for going off with K three years ago. I thought Noriko knew just a little and it hurt that she didn't understand. I had to go away. I just had to. I couldn't have stayed in Japan watching the stranger replace my friend.

Sometimes I wish I could go to NeverLand where I never had to grow up and the past would fade away. Then maybe, the splinters wouldn't cut me so deeply as they do each day.

Touma found me later that day curled up on his couch sleeping away and with Noriko systematically sorting all his papers into three piles – or so he told me after he woke me up. By that time Noriko was gone but she had left Kumagorou sitting on top of one of the filing cabinets wearing one of Touma's hats. He also said that she had apologized – to him to pass it on to me – and that he also told her that K could never be anyone suspicious because he would probably shoot himself if he got that crazy.

I was in no mood to listen to anything so after he stopped talking and just sat there staring at me, I asked to be taken home. He sighed and dialed a number and a moment later, he was hauling me to my feet and shoving Kumagorou into my arms. I blinked confusedly as K appeared like magic and caught my arm, tugging me along. Touma must have been able to read my mind because he thawed a little and smiled.

"I have a lot of paperwork to fill out, Ryuu-chan," he said, nodding at K. "So I asked K to make sure you got home safely since he was heading in that direction anyways. Get some sleep and we'll talk, just the three of us tomorrow."

I could have protested – K was no longer my manager and that Touma and Noriko and I should talk about things now – but I just did not feel up to any confrontation. So giving a nod, I let K drag me out of the building.


	13. track eleven

_A.N.: Warnings and disclaimers are still the same. Spoilers from ep eight of the anime are still in effect. Everything in italics are thoughts._

** track eleven **

I managed to catch up to Noriko the next day right before anyone else showed up back stage. She and I talked about her worries and my worries and the reasonings behind how things had happened that led to Nittle Grasper's splitting up. The main one had always been Touma's stranger face. I couldn't face him, so I hid myself more and that caused the cracks to really appear and then, well and then we just fell down. Not that our popularity ever truly waned, but if we couldn't connect, we couldn't find the music.

Without the music, there really was no need for Nittle Grasper.

Touma showed up a few minutes late, already looking harassed and briefly enquired about the spat the day before as he hung his hat on Kumagorou's head. We both told him it was already hashed out and he gave an absentminded nod as he took a seat next to me, let his briefcase drop to the floor and yawned.

"Why do big name shows have to start filming so early in the morning?" Noriko muttered, pouring herself some coffee.

Touma shrugged and unrolled his newspaper, disappearing behind it. A few seconds later, he reached around the paper barrier, snagged a cup of coffee for himself before hiding again behind it. Even morning people needed a boost every now and again I guessed as I rooted around in my bag for something to wear.

I had underdressed for a stage appearance when coming to the studio that morning, having taken the train part way and walked the rest of the way. I didn't want to be chased by rabid fans – not wanting to get rabies – but ratty jeans and a tee shirt would just not cut it for a comeback appearance. I found my leather pants and silk shirt buried underneath my current manga book and without any ceremony changed my clothing. Neither Noriko nor Touma looked up as I shimmied about butt naked while complaining about wrinkled clothing, so I got dressed with a pout. It was always a bummer when those that I loved most in the world refused to look up at my actions.

I flopped onto the table and grabbed some coffee, nearly knocking over Noriko's and Touma's cups in the process. Touma lowered his paper and eyed me like he wasn't sure what planet I came from and then put his paper away. Like Noriko, he came in his stage clothing, and all he needed was a coat of makeup to be perfect for the cameras.

"Don't drink too much coffee we don't want your vocal cords to crack during our takes," he said, watching me as I gulp down my coffee. I stuck my tongue out at him and groped for the pot to refresh my cup. I hated early morning TV filming; too much rules and not enough coffee to get through them. Watching me for a moment, Touma reached over, taking the coffee pot away from me.

My protests about his fluffy evil ways did not even get started when the makeup and hair crew appeared at the doorway bristling with implements of their professions. When we preformed on stage, we usually did our own makeup and hair, but the lights using in the studios were different and needed a different kind of pampering to look good for the cameras. Used to the treatment, I sat still enough for my two people as they flew around me with their products and once I emerged from the haze caused by various sprays, Touma shooed me off to explore the stage area.

I took Kumagorou with me so he could see what it looked like up on stage and started wrestling with him. I was in the middle of Kumagorou's super spin slap when Shuichi and his band appeared, all makeup covered and ready for their part of the show. I waved and so did Kumagorou, and wished them some good luck as well. Shuichi looked very happy and waved back until K leaned in close and started whispering to him. I didn't see what else happened for that was when Touma appeared and tugged me off stage because Bad Luck was going to break the stage in first.

I wasn't sure if it would be a good idea to let them break the stage, but I wasn't the one who would pay for a new stage, so I went down to hang around Touma and Noriko while Bad Luck played. I didn't really listen to them talk since I was more interested in listening to Shuichi as he sang. And boy did he sing. It sounded a lot better than the last time he was singing live, like he gained a whole bunch of confidence over the past few weeks. Maybe Eiri was good for him. Maybe they have worked everything out and they are doing well and I didn't need to worry any more.

They were good and I was bouncing in place after they were done, waiting for them to settle down before I flew in to pounce Shuichi and get his autograph. I dodged past a couple of people carrying ladders and came to a halt at his side, crowing excitedly about how cool he was and how much I needed his autograph. Shuichi looked at me like I had a disease and pulled away saying that he wasn't sure about giving me his autograph. I started sniffling at that response and tried to bride him with an autograph of my own and one of my rings, but before we could have made any headway, Noriko came to drag me away. Being the charmer that I am, I reacted by yelling, flailing my arms about and crying about Shuichi being my friend. Noriko muttered under her breath about something and pushed me into Touma. He took a moment to straighten my shirt and tugged Kumagorou out of my hands before handing me a mic. Then the lights dimmed and the announcers started talking.

Mentioning our name was the trigger for the guitar part. I felt the music stroke my spine, settling in my nerves but managed one last grin and a tiny wave to Shuichi before letting it consume me just in time for my cue. I moved. I sang. Making love to the sound, building it up around me and sharing it with Touma and Noriko. They gave me the rhythm and I followed, my voice pouring out and filling the air.

No thinking.

_Dance._

No past.

_Lights blurring the lines._

No future.

_The beat masking all sounds and needs._

Just this here.

_Don't let it stop._

In the music.

_I'm alive here. I. Am. Alive._

We finished the set and the announcers came up on stage. Still floating on the echoes, I acted normally around them, answering and posing with Noriko and Touma. After another commercial break, we played another set, did a few more question and answers and then we pulled out the big guns. Touma and Noriko had looked at some of my American stuff and talked me into using one of them for a finale but this time, we gave it the Nittle Grasper treatment. I think we floored the announcers and I knew we probably gave the smack down on anyone that thought we were just old has-beens.

We were still flying when we got back to our dressing room. Noriko was bouncing off the walls, trying to dial up her hubby and kids while talking a mile a minute about our next engagements. Touma whipped out a notebook and was scratching down cords with a fury I hadn't seen in a long time, his eyebrows furrowed and his tongue peeking out from between his pink lips. I was working too, writing a next set of lyrics in Japanese of all things, basing them off of my solo piece we'd just preformed.

Noriko ripped my sketchbook out of my hands and plopped in front of Touma, who started putting the words into the frames he was making and I leaned over, humming the melody inside of my head. Noriko draped herself over my back - her lilac hair falling over my collarbone - and Touma leaned back against me - the scent of his aftershave and sweat mixing together making my throat dry – and we connected together, the music still pulling between us. It was far more intimate than sex, this sharing, I wanted to hold it together, press it against my chest and never let go.

Unfortunately, the outside world intruder in the form of my former manager as he banged into the room, took one look at the three of us and shook his head. He had seen us do even stranger stuff while still running high from the stage, so I wasn't sure why he gave us that look, but it had its desired effect. The music broke apart and we pulled away from each other reluctantly. Touma closed his notebook and my sketchbook, glanced at K and folded his hands together.

"Is there something that you want, K-san?" he asked. I grabbed Kumagorou and started chewing on an ear.

"That was some kind of performance you three gave; I must congratulate you on not losing your touch," K replied, glancing at me. I inched away from the kill zone in case the American pulled out his Glock and started shooting Touma.

"Thank you," Touma said, his smile bland. "I must say that you have certainly made Bad Luck perform much better than I had hoped. But that is not the real reason why you are here, is it, K-san?"

I had inched as far from the kill zone as I could while still staying in the same room. Noriko had also taken the hint and was huddling against me and trying to get me hold Kumagorou out like a shield. Any minute now, k would start shooting someone. I could feel it in my bones.

K grinned and crossed his arms over his chest, switching to English. "You gave Shuichi a heart attack."

"What did he say?" Noriko asked me. I screwed up my face trying to imagine me giving anyone a heart attack. Giving them wet panties, I could see, but a heart attack?

"Shindo-san? Don't be ridiculous, K. I am sure that the boy is just fine."

"He broke down and cried while you three were up on stage," K said, switching back to Japanese. Noriko relaxed against me and sighed to herself even while I tried to swallow Kumagorou's head while waiting for the bullets to start flying.

"I see," Touma said, frowning just a little. "Well, I suppose he can have tomorrow off. It was probably just the excitement and exhausting catching up to him."

K frowned as well, but unlike Touma's frowns, one could see that he was upset about something. Touma raised an eyebrow and K nodded once before leaving the room.


	14. track twelve

**Author's Notes:** Disclaimers are the same as before - this is a work of pure fiction based off the Gravitation anime and manga. In no way or form do I own these characters or am I doing an accurate portrayal of them with this fiction. The warnings remain the same as well: This fiction portrays a male/male homosexual relationship between Ryuichi and Tohma. Like all relationships, the ride is not always an easy one. Also appearing for the first time in this fiction is a darker behaving Ryuichi. I stick by my idea that Ryuichi is not an idiot and that his bouncy, hyper personality has a dark side. It shows up a little here.

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**track twelve **

Silence settled around the room like a sullen bucket of mud after K left. The music felt limp for the first time for the day, and all that it left behind was an overwhelming urge to crawl into a corner and sleep. I didn't like the way the whole room suddenly lost its shine and went back to huddle against Touma's back, crushing Kumagorou between us. Noriko did not return to the group huddle; instead she finally dialed up her husband and informed him that she was done with the shoot and will be heading home soon.

"Well guys," she said, coming over to the two of us and kissed each of us on the cheek. "I'm off. Remember not to do anything too crazy this weekend and I'll be bright and early at the studio on Monday."

I untangled myself from Touma long enough to hug her goodbye, and then waved her out of the door. Touma gathered all our scraps of paper together in a neat pile, stuffed them into his briefcase and stood up. I watched him for a moment before he reached down to tug me to my feet, his smile looking pleasant if I didn't look at his eyes.

But of course I looked. I couldn't look away as that expression fell over his face again. But this time, I also couldn't keep my mouth shut.

"You're shutting me out again."

He stopped and looked at me, his bangs falling into his eyes. "I'm not."

"Yes you are." I stretched, feeling something in my back pop into place. "You're off somewhere else, probably with Eiri and you are not even seeing me."

"I saw you up on stage."

"But you don't see me now," I snapped, feeling the words settle on my spine. He didn't respond to that and something just twanged in my head, like a guitar string stretched too far. I did not even think as I grabbed onto the front of his shirt, leaned up and kissed him.

A hard kiss; the kind of kiss where teeth and tongues clashed, biting and grinding with little finesse and a lot of anger and regret, and left us both raw. His words were lost somewhere in my throat, his hands flailing wildly at my shoulders before they got a good grip and squeezed hard. I growled and pushed back against him and he went, hitting the door and loosing his hat with a loud bang. His hands tightened and I expected him to push me away. Instead he dragged me closer.

I could smell his cologne and his sweat and feel every inch of him pressed tight against me. I pressed my thigh against his crotch and he tried to gargle with my tongue. My fingers tore at his stage clothing finding bits of his skin and scraping my fingers against it, trying for more. Trying to mark him, trying to engrave my being into his soul, trying to make him let go of the Eiri of his past.

Or maybe I was trying to get him to recall me. At that point I had no idea except I was angry at him and at me. I wanted to kiss him, wanted to fuck him right up against the door like a common cheap lay. Maybe sour my memory so I wouldn't try to reach for him anymore.

The kiss ended as he finally pushed me away. His lips were swollen, the lower one bleeding from me biting them. His eyes were foggy and his body was trembling against mine but he tried to speak normally as he tried to push me further away.

"Ryuuichi, we can't be doing this."

"Why not? What makes you think that we have to behave and act like there is nothing going on?" I was breathless and trembling as well, but I had better control over my voice. "It took two to start this lover's dance again and yet here you are, chasing after someone that doesn't need you anymore! Let him go, Touma! Before he breaks you!"

He shook his head, closing his eyes and trying to cover his passion behind his stranger's face. But this time I could see all the flaws in it, the flush across his cheeks and the redness of his lips giving him away.

"He will," I said, my voice cracking at least. "He'll break you and never look back. Sure, he calls you when he's drunk and wants someone to spazz over him, but soon he won't need you. It's how he is. It's how he'll always be. Please, Touma. Don't. I can't watch you do this again."

"Is that what this is all about?" he said, his voice just a whisper. He raised his head and his eyes were no longer foggy; I could see the temper I had tempted by my words appear across his face. "What happened to you? I never knew you to be this selfish before."

"Maybe it's time that I am!"

Propelled by my singing voice, those words echoed in the room, bouncing and re-bouncing like a suicidal balloon. His head thunked against the door and his eyes widening, his temper changing into something else, something I couldn't read. My anger was going as well, my eyes feeling tight and my voice finally cracking from the pressure inside.

"Maybe it's time I started saying what I want," I said, resting my head against his chest. "Maybe I should beg and cry for what I want."

I felt the weight of his chin on top of my head and sucked in my breath. His hands went to my shoulders again, but this time they held me gently as if he was afraid I was going to break. And maybe I would break if he let go, if I actually said the words. We knew each other so well, from living out of each other's pockets to sharing a bed; we had been so close in those days before New York. I clung to his shirt and fought back the words and the tears and tried to recall the anger that drove me to kiss him.

All I could find were splinters that shattered even as I tried to draw them close.

"You can be so spoilt at times," he said, and I could hear a ghost of his real smile in his words. His right hand drifted into my hair, tilting my head up even as he pulled back a little. I looked up into eyes as blue and clear as the water of the ocean.

"That is not the case here," I replied, and stood up on my tip toes to kiss him again.

He didn't say a word as his mouth opened beneath mine, his arm around my shoulders tightening pulling me close. There was no anger this time, only hunger and want and need. His fingers pressed into my spine, drawing out a moan swallowed by his lips. I pressed against him, feeling him shudder. Then his hands were back on my shoulders pushing me away again.

I was so wrung out I couldn't say or think anything any more. I stared at him, feeling my heart pounding in my lips, and behind my eyes. His skin was flushed, his eyes wide, and his breathing heavy. Touma cupped my face in his left hand, his thumb rubbing over my bottom lip.

"Don't look at me like that, Ryuuichi," he said, his voice warm and sad and happy and hurting all together. "We just have to leave the studio soon. This isn't like N-G where the custodians wouldn't throw us out."

My voice was stiff and cracking when I was finally able to use it in reply. "I really do not want to be alone."

Touma nodded slowly, his hand moving down to press against my chest. I wrapped my cold fingers around his wrist, watching his expression in dread. But the stranger's face stayed away as he smiled and looked up at me. I knew if I tried to smile I would be crying instead.

"I don't think you should be left alone," he said, looking away. I blinked and chewed on my lower lip at this change. "Let's pack up and I'll take you home. You can stay in the guest room tonight."

Frowning, I pulled away and went to fetch my things. Kumagorou went on top of my head, all my crayons and snacks and extra clothing and sketchbooks went into my bag and I found a pair of sunglasses to go over my eyes. Touma used the time to straighten his clothing and hair, and was fussing with the position of his hat. Feeling like giving him some grief, I leaned over and took the hat from his hands and stuck it on top of my own head. Since the hat was also sharing space with Kumagorou, I bet it was a funny sight to someone not used to me.

Touma only sighed at the theft and opened the door, letting me go bouncing out first while he turned off the lights and closed the door. The hallways were dimly lit and I bounced down them doing a fair imitation of myself being happy even though my insides were churning and tightening.

Outside it was easier to breathe, but the tightness would not go away. I kept an eye on Touma as we got into his car and he started it up. He barely glanced at me as he concentrated on the road, and I pulled Kumagorou into my lap and started chewing on his ear in worry. I wasn't sure what was going on in his mind; I could feel him trying to distance himself again, trying to go back to his worry over Eiri.

I was right. By the time we got to his place, he had gone back to worrying over his brother-in-law. The intensity, the need from the studio didn't last at all as he let me inside and led me to the guest room. It was less of a guest room and more of a his second bedroom; even standing in the center of it I could see those tiny things that told me he spent a majority of his nights sleeping in here. I hugged Kumagorou tightly against me as he reclaimed his hat from my head and wished me goodnight.

Standing a room filled with the ghosts of the past, I felt something splinter inside of me.


End file.
